Bad Reputation IV: Damaged Goods
by SpadesJade
Summary: HenriMae's got a new beau, and it's not Bo. But as with all things in Hazzard, it’s much more complicated than that.
1. Complicated Country Life

Disclaimer: Wow, it's been so long...do I own the Duke's of Hazzard? (ruffles through stacks of papers on desk) Ah, alas, no. Don't have that kind of cash. Well, at any rate, here's another BR story, even if it's just to keep me amused. :)

Important A/N: This story begins during the events of _Miz Tizdale On The Lam_, and thus some of the scenes are directly taken from it.

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ONE -- COMPLICATED COUNTRY LIFE

**Balladeer: Strangers in Hazzard were not a common occurrence, but when a new face did appear, the locals did their best to be friendly. And it seemed that the unofficial welcome wagon was Bo and Luke Duke. Of course, it didn't hurt that Daisy had an eye for attractive new men. **

He sat in the corner of the Boar's Nest, sipping his beer. He was dressed like a local, jeans and a brown shirt, nothing extraordinary. Brown hair, indiscriminate eyes, but he had a particular way of speaking that got Daisy's attention. Southern Texan accent, definitely, but it was something about his voice, his manners, a blending of country and city, that made her look twice.

"So what brings you to Hazzard?" Daisy asked.

The man looked up at her and gave her a smile that was all charm. "Actually, I'm getting into the horse trade."

"You breed horses?"

"More like train them," he explained. "I just bought some property a few miles from here, off of Route 81?"

Daisy's eyes lit up. "The old Wilson farm! Yeah, I used to know them. Widow Wilson went to go live with some family after her stroke…well, I'm glad someone other than Boss Hogg is taking care of the place."

A look flickered across the stranger's face. "Yeah, Hogg," he said, attempting to be polite. "Interesting guy."

"Interesting?" She nodded. "Yeah, he's been called everything else."

The stranger chuckled and then extended his hand. "Jed Davidson," he said.

"Daisy Duke," she replied.

"Duke? That name sounds familiar…" He rubbed his chin with his fingers. "I think Boss Hogg was going on about something to do with Dukes when I came in to sign the mortgage."

"Probably," Daisy said with a roll of her eyes. "He does whatever he can to keep us on our toes."

"Sounds like he makes life difficult."

She shrugged. "Interesting," she said with a wink. Just then her cousins appeared behind her.

"Daisy!" Bo greeted, eyeing the beers still on her tray. "Those for us?"

"Not a chance, sugar," she said, smiling but holding them out of reach. "Why don't you sit down with the newest member of Hazzard, Mr. Jed Davidson, and I'll get back to work?"

"Only if you eventually promise to bring _us_ some beer," Luke smirked, pulling out a chair. Instantly he had his hand out and was shaking with Jed. "Luke Duke," he said, and gestured to Bo. "My cousin, Bo."

"Nice to meet you," Jed said. "Let me get your beers for you. Daisy?"

"Right on it," she said with a shake of her head.

"So, Jed," Luke said, "what brings you to Hazzard?"

**Balladeer: And so Luke and Bo went about the business to getting into other people's business. But it was all right at the moment, as Jed seemed like a nice enough guy. They were shuckin' and jawin' by the time the real trouble walked through the door.**

"Well, I'd just be careful of Boss Hogg, if I were you," Luke said, finishing his beer. "Sounds like you got a good bargain out of him, but Boss usually has all the angles covered."

Jed nodded, still grinning. "Trust me, I read the fine print."

"He made you sign something?" Bo asked absently, distracted by movement at the door.

"Yeah, Bo, it's called—"

But Jed wasn't listening anymore. Suddenly his face went a bit slack and his eyes widened.

"Hell, I thought I only ever saw that look on Bo's face," Luke murmured, glancing at his cousin, and realized that Bo, too, was looking over his shoulder, but with a rather different expression. More like he was pained.

It was not a grand entrance by any means, but Henri-Mae Locke was always a sight. She stood out like a supermodel in a grocery store, the combination of her black leather pants with the blue sheriff shirt, including the little black tie that had been loosened just enough to accentuate her chest instead of hide it. She usually kept her hair tied back in a neat braid, heavily wetted down because her hair was nearly impossible to tame. Usually, though, by mid-day, she had to take the braid out because it had become so frayed. It seemed that her mane was acting up early.

The shaking of her long honey-brown locks across her shoulders was more than enough to get any man's attention, and she did it so unselfconsciously that it was unnerving. But she didn't spare anyone a glance as she headed for the door to Hogg's office.

Bo turned back, his eyes landing on Jed and realizing that the man was still staring in Henri-Mae's direction, even though she was gone. A pang ran through him – he knew that look too well.

"Who was that?" Jed asked.

**Balladeer: Boy's pretty cool, consider he's just been hit full in the face with Cupid's arrow**.

"Deputy Locke," Luke replied, going back to his beer. The last thing he wanted was to get in the middle of _this_ upcoming mess.

"You sure got some pretty law enforcement around here," Jed murmured.

"Hrmph," Bo hrmphed. Things with Henri-Mae had been up, down, and up again so quickly he couldn't keep track. Two months ago, they'd had a rather resolving conversation just outside the Boar's Nest, and cemented their tenuous truce. The time following had been quiet and their various encounters since peaceful -- and he could move on and smile at pretty girls without feeling a nice big rock of guilt on his chest. But with the way Jed was looking at her...

The aforementioned turned to him, eyes clearing. "So that's it? What's the story? How'd a girl like that become part of the Sheriff's department?"

"Very _long_ story," Bo said, wishing to squish the subject. The when he saw the amusement on Luke's face, annoyance flashed through him. "What?"

"Her name is Henri-Mae," Luke said with a sigh, giving in to the inevitable. "She came back into town about a year ago…she's kind of an ex-flame of Bo's."

Jed's head swiveled back around to Bo, expression wide. "Oh, I'm sorry, Bo, I didn't mean—"

"You didn't," Bo said, giving Luke a dirty look. "Henri-Mae and I are ancient history."

"You sure about that?"

"Very," Bo muttered. And he'd be _so_ damn sure of that, too. He no longer looked at her as if he'd lost something he could never get back. Why all of a sudden was it coming back?

"Well," Jed said, leaning forward as the door opened and Henri-Mae suddenly reappeared, "mind if I take a chance?"

"Not at all," Bo said, but his gut made a funny little lurch as he said it.

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When Henri-Mae emerged from that office, she looked angry. It was a simmering, deep, hot anger, a volcano that could likely explode if the wrong thing happened. She stomped over to a table currently occupied by Cletus, slapped her hat down and plopped into the old wooden chair, propping up one leg on a neighboring chair that brought her shining black boots into prominence. She slumped down, arms folded.

"Bad day?" Cletus asked, partly ignorant as he busied himself taking peanuts out of the shell and making a careful pile of them beside him.

"Boss…" she muttered.

"Careful what you say," Cletus said, but his smile was planted firmly in place. "I'm one eighth Hogg, y'know."

"Sounds to me like it's time for an amputation," Henri-Mae muttered, gesturing at Daisy.

"An am-phew…huh?"

Henri-Mae looked away. She was tired, she was cranky, and worse than that, she was broke. "Does he ever give raises?" she asked, returning to her earlier rant.

"I haven't gotten one since I got here, and that was three years ago," Cletus said, still picking away at peanut shells. Henri-Mae groaned and rolled her head back over the top of her chair.

Daisy appeared, setting down the beer. Henri-Mae looked up, not expecting the friendliest service from the alpha-female Duke-- she'd never really forgiven Henri-Mae for her part in the hostage situation in the county jail two months back that endangered the lives of her two beloved cousins -- but knew Daisy wouldn't dare start anything. She ventured, still careful, "Can you start a tab for me, Daisy?"

"No need, sugar," Daisy said, straightening. "This one's already been picked up." She glanced over her shoulder.

Henri-Mae frowned and looked in the same direction. Bo and Luke sat together at a table with a face she didn't recognize. "Who? _Bo's_ not buying me a beer, is he?"

"No, the stranger," Daisy answered shortly. "It's on him."

As if on cue, the stranger raised up his glass and toasted her. Bo and Luke just continued to look on, both with friendly, if distant, nods.

Grasping the handle of the beer mug, Henri-Mae tentatively toasted him back in thanks, and then sipped at the cool foamy top.

A few moments passed. Henri-Mae was temporarily distracted by Cletus' sudden rambling about all the times he had attempted to get a raise from Boss and had failed miserably, when another shadow fell across them. She looked up.

The stranger was standing over them, smiling cordially, hat in hand. "Hello," he said. "I'm Jed Davidson, I'm new in town. I thought it might be a good idea to make myself familiar with the local law enforcement."

Taken aback for a moment, Henri-Mae had to chuckle, looking in amusement across the table at Cletus, still piling his peanuts. What an impression they had to make. An idiot and…well, she knew her own motivations for keeping this job.

"That's Cletus," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, but the stranger, Jed's eyes didn't move from her. She'd been pinned by that look a handful of times in her life, but this guy…he seemed different. Genuine, actually. He had an air of southern gentleman about him that few southern gentlemen actually pulled off. And his accent was thick, if not local. Texan, she was pretty sure. "I'm Henri-Mae."

"Deputy Locke, they told me," Jed said, his smile widening, showing some teeth, as he took her hand. "Very nice to meet you."

"You too," she said. "Thanks for the beer."

"My pleasure. I hope to run into you sometime when it's not police business," he said, donning his hat. It was a cowboy hat, and it fit him, like in some old west movie. He nodded his head at her respectfully one last time before heading out the door.

She stared after him a moment. "Cletus," she said eventually, "you know that guy?"

"Bought the Wilson farm," Cletus said, starting to munch his peanuts. "Something about horses. Boss was scheming to overcharge him on his bales of hay until he gets himself started up."

Henri-Mae grunted. Something about that man was sticking with her…something about his eyes. She couldn't remember what color they were…they seemed blue in one second and brown in the next.

"Maybe…" she murmured, but shrugged it off and went back to her beer. All she really wanted was to finish it, go home, and take a long nap.

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A few days later, Henri-Mae had the opportunity to run into him again, this time outside the General Store.

While her room and board were taken care of by her deal with Boss, she still had to feed herself, and even though she lacked the use of a kitchen, she was very good at making meals that didn't need cooking. Usually her trips to the General Store were weekly and could be contained by a single bag, as her salary usually afforded hot lunches at the Boar's Nest. She was on her way out of the store, bag hitched on her hip, when she noticed that someone was admiring her motorcycle, currently sitting idle in its parking space.

The man turned around. This time in a blue T-shirt and black jeans, brown hair tossed ruggedly over his eyes, and sans the cowboy hat, Jed Davidson smiled at her. "Well, hello," he said, walking towards her. "You wouldn't happen to know whose bike that is, would you?"

For a second, she forgot to breathe. Just at that moment, he was particularly striking. His eyes were definitely hazel-blue, and sparkling from their perfect setting in his face. His features were on the angular side, with his nose being the most prominent, a bit large and mildly crooked, as if it had been broken at some point in time. Softened as his face was with the smile, it gave him a boyish, playful, downright mischievous look. The kind she easily went for. "Mine," she said with a grin, arms looped lazily around her bag. "You like it?"

He let out a low whistle. "Had to cost a pretty penny."

"Yeah, well…when something is important…" her voice trailed off. Why had her mouth gone dry?

"Yeah," he agreed, coming closer. He stopped a polite five or six feet from her, hands stuffed into his pockets. The afternoon breezes waffled through his feathery locks. "You had to have that custom made."

She gave a slightly uncomfortable shrug. "It was a gift, actually. Long story."

That mischief in his face seemed to glimmer at her. "Seems to be the standard around here, long stories. Never thought life in the country could be so complicated."

"Only when you don't mind your own business." Then realizing how bitchy that sounded, she changed the subject. "You're in the horse trade, right?"

He nodded, seemingly unphased. "Training and conditioning, actually. And you're off duty?" It had the sound of a question, but it was a statement.

"Girl's gotta have some time to herself," she quipped, reaching to the bag and idly popping a Cheese-It into her mouth. "What brings you into town?"

"Oh, I was taking care of some business at the bank," he replied. "I heard something about there being a Grange dance in this square this Saturday. You know anything about it?"

She nodded, sighing. "People in this town don't have much else to do," she said, starting her walk down the sidewalk. He fell into step beside her, still keeping that polite distance.

"They have dances here a lot?"

"Pretty regularly. At least once a month," she informed him. Her walk picked up just a touch, enough for him to keep up.

Suddenly he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "What about your bike?" he asked.

"I park it here," she said. She pointed ahead toward the boarding house. "I live there."

"You park it there all the time?" Jed asked, a bit astounded. "And nobody bothers it?"

"Not if they want to live," she added. No sense in giving this man the wrong impression. She wasn't the soft little country girl to be courted and romanced. Better for him to know what he was shopping for right up front.

"Ah," he said, understanding, but it didn't daunt his smile in the least. If anything, it made it brighten. "So, about that dance…are you going to be there?"

"Everyone else will," she said, "and since it's in front of where I live, it's kind of impossible for me not to come join in. Especially when the noise keeps me awake."

"Huh. I didn't peg you for an early girl."

She gave him a half-smirk. "I'm full of surprises."

He nodded, appreciatively. "Well, then maybe you'll surprise me by saving a dance for me on Saturday."

She climbed up the steps to the boarding house and turned to look at him. But just then, as she turned around, someone came out of the post office. A slim figure, dressed like anyone else in town, button-down cotton shirt, blue jeans. The exception was, he didn't have any hair on his head, and a very thick, black beard that wrapped around his chin.

She had opened her mouth to reply to Jed, but instead, nothing came out. "Henri-Mae?" he said, tentatively.

The figure looked around. He was shoving a big mail bag through the passenger window of his blue car. Instinctively, Henri-Mae stepped back down, right into Jed's shadow. Seeing where she was gazing so intensely, Jed looked over his shoulder in that general direction.

But it was too late. The man was gone. Jed looked back at her. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She shook herself. Blinking, she looked at Jed. "Yeah. And, uh... I'll see you at the dance." And she headed up into the boarding house a second time, watching the blue car disappear down the street.


	2. The View From Here Is Pretty Good

A/N: The first part of this section is directly stolen from "Miz Tisdale On The Lam," only dramatized for the sake of the story. Sue Ann Blake plays a big part in this story. Enjoy, and review!

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Chapter Two: The View From Here Is Pretty Good

The Duke cousins were speeding through the back route into town. They'd had to spend the morning playing chauffer to Uncle Jesse and Daisy, and while they never minded, it was particularly nice day and they were anxious to be out doing what they liked best-- driving cars and chasing girls.

And it seemed, much to Luke's pleasure, that Bo was more than willing to do the latter. He'd seem to shaken off that funny, nauseated look he got on his face whenever they ran into Jed Davidson, since he'd shown up in town last week. And the catharsis from his and Henri-Mae's reconciliation a few months back was finally starting to take some solid hold. Bo was pretty much back to his usual self, even though he'd let Luke do the driving after dropping off their kin back at the farm.

That was when they were abruptly cut off by someone who wasn't watching where he was going.

A white car, almost like a sheriff's car, came streaking through the barely marked intersection, and since there were hardly any stop signs in Hazzard, nobody even bothered to slow down. The two cars sheered each other, the General spinning wildly as Luke sounded the horn. Whoever the other driver was, he wasn't very road savvy. He just continued on straight ahead, but came to a screeching halt the second the bright orange streak of the General's stripes smeared past his window.

"Look out!" Bo cried, as if Luke didn't already see him. But Luke was just as good with the General as Bo, and he expertly skipped off to the side, hardly the worse for wear.

Except, of course, for their tempers. If there were a few things in this world that the Duke boys hated, it was bad road manners. They climbed out of the General, but a voice was already apologizing, and the _he_ turned out most definitely to be a _she_.

Bo was sliding across the roof of the car when he got a good look at her. Petite, short-haired, with the sweetest little nose he could picture on a girl. The way she bit her cherry-red lips in apology was enough to bring a smile instantly to his face.

"Are you okay?" she asked, blushing furiously and looking even more adorable.

"Yeah, we're fine now," Bo said, not even realizing how incredibly smooth the words came out. Some people might have thought it was a line, but the basic fact with Bo was that all that charm was pure nature. He introduced himself and Luke, polite as you please.

"Sue Ann Blake," she replied. Now she was smiling and she was ten times prettier, if that was possible. "Gee, maybe you fellas can help me."

Luke, never one to be outdone, said, "Well, you can just think of us as...as..." he stammered for a moment, also apparently taken with this new lady's beauty, "the Ha--Hazzard County welcome wagon!" Both cousins chuckled, a bit nervously.

Sue Ann turned back to her car and pulled out what looked like an envelope. "Well, I've been looking all over for a place called Hazzard Highlands, and I haven't had a bit of luck." She pulled a rather fancy certificate out of the envelope and presented it to them.

"Hazzard Highlands?" Bo echoed, the sound completely unfamiliar.

"Yeah, I bought a lot there, with the most beautiful view you've ever seen..."

"The view from here is pretty good," Bo said, nearly without thinking. She didn't even bat an eyelash at this shameless flattery, merely cocked her head to one side and treated him to that cherry-red-lipped smile again.

Luke was more helpful. "Well, it's a mighty pretty certificate," he said, examining it, "but me and Bo have been living here all our lives, and I never heard of no place called Hazzard Highlands. You, Bo?"

"No," Bo agreed, but there was no sense in not being helpful. "But I'll tell you what, being as we are almost neighbors and all, I'd be willing to help you find it." He had begun to play absently with the end of the certificate, flicking his finger at the paper in a flirtatious way." Looking up back into those pretty eyes, he found himself stepping forward and gently pushing her back toward her car. "You sit on the other side, I will drive...Luke, you say here and watch the car."

He managed to get the door open, and she was smiling all the while, but it was more of a laughing smile than anything. This lady was no pushover, no country belle that would swoon at a taste of a southern gentleman's manners. Gently, she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Just a touch, nothing more.

"That's fine," she said, sweetly. "Really, thanks, but, uh, I think I'll manage." She stepped up and got back into the driver's seat, adding, "And I'm sorry again about the accident."

Luke picked up the slack from the disappointed Bo. It was a wonder any woman was able to resist him -- he was twice as adorable when he was refused. "Hey, no problem," Luke piped cheerfully, pushing her door shut. And they watched her drive away.

**Balladeer: Of course, the fun was just beginning.**

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A few hours later, Henri-Mae reported to work. On her way down the street, however, she couldn't help but pass by the post office. Glancing in through the wide windows, she saw an unfamiliar face sitting at the counter, where sweet old Miz Tisdale, as she was commonly known, was supposed to be. Although, to be fair, Miz Tisdale wasn't entirely sweet to her, considering she'd taken her place as the best two wheeler in town, especially now that she had that mean, lean black machine parked outside.

Turning on her heel, Henri-Mae went into the office, and the woman looked up at her. She had short brown hair that feathered nicely around her face, and good, solid features that suggested intelligence under her beauty. Right now, a crease was in the middle of her smooth brow. "Can I help you?" she asked, her accent clearly muddled from city life.

"I think the question is, can I help you?" Henri-Mae replied, trying to equal the polite tones. "I'm Deputy Locke...where's Miz Tisdale?"

The bright face instantly darkened and turned to steel. Oh, she was dealing with a professional, all right. As she stood up, Henri-Mae took in her conservative deep purple dress and knew she wasn't messing with a rookie, and if her clothes hadn't screamed it, the high tilt of her chin would have. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to speak of that matter, right now. I suggest you question your superior, Sheriff Rosco--" At that moment, the Sheriff came into the office.

**Balladeer: Now he looks for all the world like Wile E. Coyote that's just caught the Roadrunner. **

Rosco stopped short when he saw both women turn and look at him. "Oh! Henrietta...you comin' in for work?"

"Sheriff, where's Miz Tisdale?" Henri-Mae asked, wishing for once that Rosco would show her respect and call her Deputy Locke, even though she knew it was pure affection that made him call her Henrietta. "And don't tell me she's sick, she'd be workin' if she was dead."

"Uh." Rosco looked uncomfortably from the strange woman to Henri-Mae, and then back again. Stammering, he made out with brief introductions. "This is U. S. Postal Inspector Blake. She's investigating Miz Tisdale on charges of mail fraud."

He showed her the out-of-town newspaper add that he had in his hand. She snatched it from him. "Hazzard Highlands," she read. "One hundred dollars? Oh good God!" Instantly, Henri-Mae knew. This had Hogg's stink all over it. No way on the planet would Miz Tisdale do _anything_ dishonest. First of all, she lived, loved and died by the rules not because of some moral compulsion, but because she _liked_ them. And it made her important, old maid as she was. Second, well, this was just too obvious, and Tisdale was not stupid.

Rosco gave her a funny look, somewhere between what he usually gave Cletus when he wanted him to shut up, and Boss when he was pleading with him but had too much pride to beg. So Henri-Mae said nothing. She stepped around him and went marching down the street, straight into Hogg's office. But he wasn't there.

The Boar's Nest. She stepped out, got on her bike, and drove away down the road.

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"Boss!" She saved her hollering for the second she knew that the door was locked and they were alone. Boss had been sitting in his barber's chair, dozing lightly, and he nearly jumped ten feet into the air at the sound of her voice.

"Henri-Mae!" he shouted back at her, irritated as he regained his balance. "What in tarnation do you think you're doin', comin' in here and--"

"Do you know that mail fraud is a_ Federal crime_?" she said, her hands on her hips, coming around and facing him squarely.

"What are you talkin' about?" Boss asked, although he started to sweat ever so slightly.

"Federal crime. As in being put in a _Federal penitentiary_, where they put child molesters and serial killers. Not the nice sweet little State Prison where I got languish for two years with bank robbers and vandals. This is a whole new game, and I don't think you're up to playing it."

He gazed at her, his little brown eyes going beady. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said slowly.

She gave a sharp laugh and folded her arms. "Come on, Boss. You and I both know Tisdale didn't do anything. What's your scheme? And what in the hell made you think _this_--" she shoved the newspaper into his hand, which she had taken with her, "was a good idea?"

Boss looked at the newspaper but didn't take it. "Just goes to show how desperate some people can be," he said with a throwaway chuckle. "Don't worry, Henri-Mae, we'll have it all sewed up tight shut in no time and we can all go back to life as normal--"

"Hogg!" He turned back to her, sharply. Normally, she didn't disrespect him or overstep her boundaries. She knew she owed him a lot -- her entire existence in this town, peaceful as it was, was entirely due to his good graces, and his wallet. But this was too much...and far too dangerous. "Aren't you _listening _to me? Mail fraud is not some casual little scheme. This is serious business. That woman is a Federal agent, don't mistake her pretty looks for a low I.Q. 'Specially after those other Feds came rolling through here some months back and caused all that trouble. She's going to figure you out."

"Not unless somebody slips up and lets the cat out of the bag," Boss said, his voice going low.

She pulled up short. She didn't like that tone. But she pushed on anyway. "Boss, this is different. This is dangerous."

"Certainly is...for _all_ of us." He was eyeing her now.

"I mean," she went on, hoping to trigger some sense in his fat little head, "Tisdale is very good friends with the Dukes, and you think they're just going to sit by and let their friend go up for a Federal rap?"

"Nope, I don't. I expect them to take the rap _with_ her."

She stopped. "Boss, you aren't serious. You're not...not for mail fraud..."

Boss shrugged. "Seems as good a way as any." He scowled at her. "Besides, I thought your mission here in this town was to make Bo Duke's life a living hell?"

Henri-Mae's jaw snapped shut. She drew a few breaths, steadied herself. "I think I've accomplished my goal already, Boss. But this is a little harsh, don't you think?"

He shrugged again, unconcerned. "Don't see why either you or I should care. And I suggest you keep all your crazy little suspicions to yourself. After all that's been going on in this town over these last several months, I'm sure a lot more people are looking at Hazzard than you'd think. And _you_ in particular."

That feeling from before got worse. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, you've got a criminal record. You seem to know a lot of the ins and outs of the legal system. Wouldn't be so far fetched to find out that you were in this with them."

Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. She couldn't speak for a moment, and when the words came out, they were choked. "Are. You. Threatening. Me?"

He shrugged for a third time. "Wouldn't dream of it, Henri-Mae. I know you still got some old friends." He came over to her with that smile and patted her upper arms in a fatherly way. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Get some more rest, you still look tired. I know you haven't fully recovered from that terrible ordeal with that convict a few months back, why don't you get some recreation in, go play racquet ball or something? We'll handle things here."

She stared down at him, confused. One minute he was threatening her and the next minute she was his little pet again. "Fine, Boss," she said in a soft voice. She turned. "I'll go, but I'm not taking the day off. I saw someone in town this morning that I'm not sure I recognize, but if I do, I want to keep an eye out for him."

"Who'd you see?" Boss asked, all concerned innocence.

"A guy I knew named Slocum."

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"How many old friends you got from New York, anyway?" Lula Marie asked as she poured a cup of hot, steaming coffee into twin mugs.

Sitting on the barstool in Lula's small kitchen in her apartment over the General Store, which Lula owned, Henri-Mae flopped her hat down on the counter, over the newspaper add she had taken from Rosco, and rubbed one side of her face tiredly. "It's not like that. He worked for Kelly."

Lula nodded. After the ordeal in the county jail with Peter McCabe, Henri-Mae had come clean with her old high-school friends about what she'd been doing during her seven year stretch away from Hazzard. Three of them had been in New York, two in a State Correctional Facility for Women, and two in Vegas. But it was a long story to recap and had taken more than a few tellings to complete. Lula Marie, being closest to her since her return to Hazzard, had heard the most details, especially about Henri-Mae's old manager, Kelly.

"A driver, like you?" Lula asked, referring to the illegal racing that Kelly managed her for.

"No, hired muscle, mostly," Henri-Mae said, repressing a mild shudder. "Although I never saw him in action, Pete didn't like him. Said he was weird."

Lula gave her a look. "Well, considering how well you knew Pete, you know better than I do what _that_ means."

"Yeah, the guy was _majorly_ screwed up." Although she would have liked to substitute the F-word for screwed. "Had a twisted streak. Could pull off this southernly Santa Clause style friendliness one minute, and be biting into your neck with his teeth the next. He was a freak and Kelly loved it. Kept people afraid of her. I thought he was still working for her, but I guess things have changed."

"No chance he's here on purpose?" Lula suggested. "That she might have sent him after you?"

"That's a horrible thought," Henri-Mae said softly, almost to herself. But she had to consider it. One thing about Lula, she knew how to make you think. "I can't imagine why, though. I didn't owe Kelly anything, she knew I was leaving. Everything was cool between us."

Lula nodded again. It was hard not to mention Saul, especially since it was suspected he was at the heart of the last mess Henri-Mae had been thrown into. But Henri-Mae had made it clear that that subject was taboo. Then again, denial wasn't just a river in Egypt, as Lula Marie liked to say.

"So Hogg gave you the day off," Lula said. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. If it was Slocum that I saw in town, I really don't want anything to do with him. And since he was leaving the post office with a big-ass bag of mail, I can only assume he's involved with Hogg's post office scheme somehow, which means if I get anywhere near him Boss'll know I haven't let it drop."

"Seems kind of funny, hired muscle getting involved with a con like that."

"He played slow and stupid on purpose. The guy was actually pretty smart, according to Kelly." Henri-Mae sighed, sipped at her coffee. "I don't know...I think maybe the only thing I can do is find the Duke boys and warn them."

"I think they already know." Lula Marie was standing at her window, looking through the blinds. Henri-Mae came over, expecting to see the bright orange of the General, but instead saw Cletus' patrol car pull up to the Sheriff's station, covered with large clusters of hay.

"What the...?"

Lula Marie was smirking. "Maybe you'd better go find out."

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It didn't take long to hike across the street to where the patrol cars were parked, Rosco's having quickly pulled up behind Cletus. But wanting to see what was really going on, Henri-Mae paused behind a tree, watching carefully before showing herself. The woman, Blake, was getting out of the car.

"Well, gentlemen," she was saying in a tightly controlled voice. "You have shown me how the law in Hazzard operates, all right." Now it was unwinding, showing more anger, dripping with contempt. "That was, without a doubt, the most _lud_icrous, _out_rageous, _asinine_ police operation I've ever seen!"

**Balladeer: I guess it goes without saying that that girl is _not_ happy.**

Rosco had come up beside her. "You enjoy a hot pursuit?" he said, plucking at the straw clinging to her suit.

Henri-Mae stifled a laugh. Poor Rosco, he was an absolute sucker for a pretty girl. Worse than Bo would ever be.

Cletus, oblivious to half the words she'd said, replied, "Thank you very much, ma'am. We try to please."

"Oh Cletus!" Boss exploded. "You were born stupid and you've been losing ground ever since! Hush up!"

"Gentleman," Blake said, her voice strained to the max with politeness, "if you want me, I'll be in the post office." And she walked away.

They were squabbling now, and Boss was squealing about rounding up the Duke gang, and about reinforcements. He hadn't seen her, none of them had, and it was going to go in her favor in a moment.

"I'm calling Slocum to come here with some muscle," Boss said as he traipsed into the Sheriff's station, "because, when them mail sacks full of money for Hazzard Highlands arrive at the Post Office tomorrow morning at 8:00, I aim to make it a very special delivery!"

She watched them go inside. She felt sick...if Slocum had been here, Boss had apparently chased him out to keep him from crossing paths with the postal inspector, and now he was coming back.

She crept over to her bike. There was nothing for it. If Slocum was coming back, she had to warn the Duke boys. Even if it meant her job, she had to do something. She couldn't live with herself if Slocum hurt any of them, she didn't care how capable the Duke family was of defending itself. Slocum was different. He was just plain evil.


	3. Cyril Locke's Prodigal Daughter

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't tell. And **HEY!!!**-----Some seriously ugly violence in this chapter! Just so you're warned!

A/N: I've been lazy. Sorry this update took so long. Haven't been getting a lot of reviews so it's been a bit harder to keep up. But I know from my stats that people are reading, so I'll work harder. For those precious, loyal few who have been reviewing, I've decided on a double update, so there are TWO new chapters! Yay! So please be sure to review each one (because I'm pathetic that way. )!

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**Balladeer: First stop was Cooter's garage, Cooter bein' most likely to know where the boys were. Of course, he was also the _least_ likely to tell her -- she'd have to give him a message, if it came down to it. But Cooter's garage was empty. Next she tried the Duke farm, watching the road for any signs of the General Lee or Dixie along the way. But no General Lee was kicking up the dirt that day, and nobody was home at the farm, not even Uncle Jesse.**

She came out of the house, which Jesse always left unlocked. Just as she was getting down and back on her bike, she heard a strange sound.

It was the clomping of hooves. She looked over her shoulder in time to see a beautiful deep brownish-black horse, a stallion from the looks of him, coming up the road. And on his back was Jed Davidson.

"Second time today," he called cheerfully. "Looks like my luck is turning around."

He had changed out of the T-shirt and jeans she'd seen him in this morning, and he was wearing riding chaps and a dark shirt with long sleeves, to protect him from the sun. And he had his cowboy hat on now, which she noticed was almost the same shade of brown as his horse.

She shook herself. She had more important things to do. "Hey, Jed," she said. "Sorry, I'm on police business."

He trotted up beside her, tipping his hat. "Anything I can do to help? You looking for the Dukes?"

**Balladeer: You can tell that boy ain't been in Hazzard for very long. He's got no idea of the history behind her and the Duke clan, which explains why he's offering to help her. That and the stars in his eyes.**

_No sense not taking advantage of the situation_, Henri-Mae thought. "Matter of fact, I am," she said, keeping her tone friendly. "You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?"

"I don't know where they are _now_," Jed admitted, "but I did see something really strange this morning. They were all at Cooter's garage, with that nice older lady who runs the post office?"

"Miz Tisdale," Henri-Mae supplied.

"And that Chinese fella...can't remember his name..."

"What were they doing?" Henri-Mae asked, her curiosity now just plain peaked.

"Weirdest thing...they were dressing that Chinese guy up in Miz Tisdale's clothes and putting him on her bike. Made the Sheriff chase after him an everything."

Realization exploded into her head. "Thanks Jed, really, thanks a million."

"Did that help?" he asked, puzzled yet pleased at her gratitude.

"_Did_ it," she said, revving up her bike. The horse jumped a bit at the noise, but Jed was quick to settle him back down. The roar softened quickly, as it was a top quality bike and the engine usually purred like a kitten. "Beautiful horse, by the way."

"His name's D.C.," Jed said. "Come by sometime and you can meet my others."

She nodded absently, and was off down the road.

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When she got to the Fong's house, she knocked on the door, and Scarlet Fong was the one to answer. Pretty, petite, with china-doll skin and ebony black hair, she looked more like she belonged in a New York nightclub in an evening gown-- at least, more than in jeans and an apron, cooking dinner in Billy Joe's famous wok.

"I need to talk to Uncle Jesse," Henri-Mae said. The woman was small, but no wimp. She stood flatly in the doorway, not letting Henri-Mae in.

"No Uncle Jesse," she said.

"Look, I know he's here," Henri-Mae said, flustered. "He's not at the Duke farm and Miz Tisdale is probably latched to his side, so if you're hiding her here, he's got to be here with her."

"No Uncle Jesse. No Miz Tisdale," Scarlet flatly replied, those almost eyes glaring at her.

"I'm _not_ here to _arrest_ anybody!" Henri-Mae cried, floundering her arms. Then, with a burst of anger, she reached out and grabbed hold of Scarlet's pale arms and lifted her into the air, setting her to the side. She went through the house and directly into the back room, which led to the Wong's garage.

**Balladeer: And sure enough, there was Uncle Jesse, with Miz Tisdale standing behind him, messing with hair like a little girl playing beauty shop. **

"Emmers, stop that!" Uncle Jesse barked at her, although he made no serious effort to shoo her away, polite as he was. And then he looked up and saw Henri-Mae, and he blanched until he was the color of Emma's white hair.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Jesse," Henri-Mae said, in a tight and breathless voice. "But I have to warn you. One of Boss' thugs is a very dangerous man, and the boys need to be warned. They need to be careful!"

The older man stared at her a moment, and then, when she didn't arrest anybody, he decided to believe her. "Well, there's a problem. I haven't been able to get ahold of the boys, not for the last half-hour. They've been scoping around the back roads looking for something--"

"Boss' hideout?" Henri-Mae supplied.

"Exactly how much do you know about what's going on?" Uncle Jesse asked her.

"A lot," she said, then, not wanting to sound cocky, she added, "Maybe more than you do."

"Go on," Uncle Jesse prompted.

"Look, I can't explain right now, but I saw one of the guys that Boss has gotten involved with on this con, and he's not who Boss thinks he is. He thinks Slocum is just hired muscle but I know better...he's a dangerous man."

"Like Peter McCabe?" Jesse asked, a touch of anger lingering deep in his voice. While he didn't directly blame her for what had happened in the county jail, it had made him twice as leery of Cyril Locke's prodigal daughter than he'd ever been.

She looked at him for a moment. "I deserved that," she admitted. "But yeah. Kinda like that."

If it was possible, he was even paler. "Then we gotta get someone to go look for them," he said.

"I'll go," Henri-Mae said. "I think I can get some help without letting Boss know what's going on." When she turned to leave, she heard Uncle Jesse call her name again. "Yeah?" she asked, turning back.

"Why are you helping us?" he asked.

She hesitated, and then said, "If you knew Slocum, you wouldn't have to ask."

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"Jed!"

She didn't have to call twice. Nimbly, he turned around on his horse, and smiled brightly for her, yet again. If the boy didn't stop playing so easy to get, she was going to lose interest.

"Deputy Locke, I guess it's true what they say about third time's the charm--"

"Jed, I need to ask your help," she said, pulling up beside him. This time, the horse didn't react.

"Anything, Officer, just name it."

"I need you to help me look for the General Lee."

"General Lee?" Jed echoed. "I, uh...thought he was dead, couple hundred years now..."

"No, the car. The bright orange Dodge Charger that the Duke boys drive. I need to find it."

Jed nodded, but looked puzzled. "I'm sorry, Officer, but aren't there other members of your department to do that?"

She sighed. "I don't have time to explain. Just, please...can you give me a hand? You can get to places faster than I can because you can go off-road. Do you have a radio, by chance?"

"Yeah, I was practically told I had to have one," Jed said, fishing with a rather large black object attached to his belt. "So I carry mine on me--"

"That's fine. Tune to channel sixty-five. That's where I'll be. If you see them, call me, but do not approach, understand?"

"Sure," he said. "Uh, what can I--"

"Thanks!" she called, and was already racing off. She wasn't fifteen minutes into her search when she heard someone on the C.B. Only it wasn't Jed, like she'd hoped, but it was Cletus, and he was in a right panic.

"Deputy Cletus calling the Sheriff, over! Deputy Cletus calling the Sheriff, over! The Duke boys just robbed the post office!" And it didn't stop at that, he repeated it on and on, for a solid minute, before saying, "I don't know what to do!" And then he was gone.

Henri-Mae hadn't had time to pick up the CB to respond, but she did the logical thing. She turned and headed back into town, right for the post office.

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It took longer than she thought, and when she hit the main drag through town, nobody was there -- not a cop car to be found. She tore right through, hardly looking for pedestrians and wishing like hell that she'd gotten a siren put on her bike when she'd had the chance. When she caught up with the chase, Rosco was busy plowing heavily into the General Lee's side, a bold move for him. But the General was slicker than anything made for the police, and kicked back like an angry mule, causing Rosco to temporarily lose traction and slide off to the side of the road.

When she caught up with the Duke boys, it was too late. They had pinned down the blue sedan and were climbing over it, Luke already on the passenger's side. The figure he dragged out was nearly twice his size, a good head-and-a-half his height, and offered little resistance. Before Henri-Mae knew it, Luke had slammed him down on the hood and was flinging a used cigar butt in Boss' face.

Sue Ann Blake came up behind them. It was a bit of a mess on the scene, and for a moment, Henri-Mae just stayed on her bike, watching it unfold. If she jumped in, she might just make things worse, and the guy who seemed to have given up so meekly was nothing like the Slocum she'd met once.

On a very unpleasant occasion.

She shook the memory away. Maybe she'd been wrong, maybe this wasn't Slocum--

And then he looked right at her.

Something in his eyes...the recognition, and first, and then the pure, malevolent mirth she saw there.

She stepped forward. "Luke, wait--"

It was too late. The confusion around him was all he needed. Luke pulled him up, but the hands that went into the air were only temporarily helpless. He turned, one going down, sliding so quickly Luke barely had time to react.

He had Luke's pocketknife. It snapped open, and Slocum brought it down. Luke managed to jump back in time, but the swipe wasn't meant for him. Instead, the blade was buried to the hilt into Slocum's accomplice's throat.

Rosco screeched. He had his gun out, but Slocum yanked out the knife and the heart acted like a pump, spewing blood out of the body.

It was horrific. Henri-Mae screamed, but it went into her throat and lodged there, stuck. Blood squirted at least twenty feet out, and the man made an awful, pathetic sound, somewhere between a scream and a gurgle. His hands went to stop the flow by pure instinct, but it was useless. All it did was turn the steady spray back like a fountain, splattering everyone in the vicinity.

The effect was immediate. Everyone ducked and practically ran for cover. It gave Slocum exactly what he needed -- an escape. He turned on Sue Ann, the slowest and the easiest target of the bunch, and grabbed her by the back of her neck. She screamed, but Slocum would have none of it.

"Keys!" he screamed at her.

She caught her head quickly, hand going into her pocket. Slocum snatched the keys from her and pushed her down, into a thick pile of blood-made mud with an ugly sounding splat. Then he was in her car -- no longer white, but quickly turning an odd sort of pink -- and taking off down the road.

Henri-Mae revved up to pursue, and she turned on her bike. But she heard Boss' frantic screams, "No, no! Henri-Mae, stop!" And for a moment, she hesitated.

He'd been surrounded, and he'd gotten away. What chance did one lady deputy have against him?

But if she didn't go after him now, he may come back after her later, on his terms. If she wanted him running scared, now was her only chance.

She shifted gears and flew off into drive.

**Balladeer: Now that, my friends, is the picture of insanity.**

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Bo didn't know what to think. He'd seen violence, especially since Henri-Mae had come back to Hazzard, but this was...different. To see someone die right in front of you, and die _horribly_. It shook him to the core.

Sue Ann was in the mud, pushed up on her arms, and to his surprise, she was oddly silent. Trembling, she attempted to get to her feet, but finally Rosco had to step in and help her.

"She can't take him on her own," Luke said, his voice as pale as his face.

"We follow?" Bo asked, watching Hazzard's law enforcement huddle in on itself, terrified and shaken.

"Yes," Luke said, "but not to help her. To stop her."

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The splattered back end of Inspector Blake's car was disappearing over a hill when Henri-Mae caught sight of it. She kicked the bike into a higher gear, knowing that now was the time to see what the machine was truly made of.

There was an orange blur in the corner of her eye. And sirens pierced her hearing, making her nearly wince. _What the hell--?_

"Henri-Mae!" came Luke Duke's voice from the passenger's window. She looked to see the General riding neck and neck with her. "Pull over!"

She looked at him like he was crazy. "I'm in the middle of a pursuit!" she hollered back. "Help me or go away!"

"We _are_ helping you!" came Bo's equally loud voice from the driver's seat, and suddenly she was coughing in a cloud of dust that the General had kicked up into her lungs as it skidded to a stop in front of her. She had to turn the bike almost on its side and barely caught herself on her left ankle to keep from crashing into the large 01 on the General's flank.

She looked back to see Rosco's car blocking her way back. She picked up her bike and considered going off-road, then glanced in the direction of Slocum's car to see if it was still worth pursuing.

Bo and Luke were already out of the General. Hogg was running up to her from behind. "Henri-Mae, Henri-Mae!" he was yelling. "Stop right now! That's an order!"

She whirled on him. "Are you crazy? Did you see what that man did?"

Hogg was nodding his head, sweat beads still sliding frantically off his shining forehead. He wiped at them in vain. "Yes I did, and he's gonna do the same thing to you if I let you go after him alone!"

"For once, Henri-Mae, listen to him," Luke was saying. "That guy is--"

"I know what he is!" Henri-Mae snarled. She turned around and drew herself up to her full height, which was considerable for her sex. Hands on her hips, she smartly replied, "Have we all forgotten that it was _me _who apprehended Peter McCabe? Shotgun and all?"

"I don't think a bear trap is going to save you this time," Bo said, his voice considerably softer than his companions, and it drew her eyes to him. For the first time, she saw how shaken and pale he was. A few drops of blood clung to one white cheek, and the shine in his blue eyes was completely gone. Nothing there but pure fear. "You may think you can take him, but we're not risking it."

**Balladeer: I've seen Bo shaken, but that's enough to scare even me.**

Slowly, she approached him. Seeing how he was, it made the guilt that had been slowly creeping up on her the last few weeks double over and intensify. "I'm not saying I'm invincible, Bo," she said, her voice softening, "but considering this man is another throwback from my time in New York, I kind of think it's my responsibility to take care of it."

He shook his head. "Not letting you go, girl," he said, a determination in his voice she hadn't heard before. "Even if I have to throw you in the General's trunk to keep you here."

"Another one?" Luke said, almost at the same time as Bo's declaration. Pulling her eyes away from Bo's gaze, she looked at Luke. She didn't have the heart to be angry or indignant at his reaction to her admission, even if it wasn't really meant for him.

"Yeah," she said. "Another one."

"We're calling the F.B.I.," Boss said, heading back to the car. "Henri-Mae, get back on that bike and report to the station. Now. Boys," he added, directed to the Dukes, "go on home and clean up. This mess is out of all our hands."

Still slightly fuming, Henri-Mae did as she was told, partly just to keep away from the new barrage of questions that were sure to come her way from the Duke camp yet again.


	4. From Chickasaw To Capitol City

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Just playing.

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The rest of the day was quiet and somber. Police lines were drawn around the scene of the murder, the F.B.I. came down from Atlanta to take statements from everyone involved. Boss lied through his teeth and pinned the whole mail fraud scheme on Slocum, but it hardly mattered, as it turned out that Slocum was on the Most Wanted List, and had been for some time. And as such, he fell under the jurisdiction of the U.S. Marshals.

"Agent Brockson, so nice to see you again," Henri-Mae said dryly from where she sat at the table in the small interrogation room. The Marshal just nodded his head at her, barely cracking a smile. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, and built like a medieval battering ram, Sam Brockson was the biggest man she'd ever encountered, and the one with the smallest sense of humor. He also struck her as particularly young for someone who spoke with such no-nonsense authority. And she distinctly felt that he didn't like her one little bit.

Not that she blamed him much.

It was night, now, around eight or nine o'clock, she wasn't sure. While the F.B.I. had taken extensive statements, the Marshals wanted to hear everything over for themselves. Several times. And in extended detail. It almost felt like a trial, and they'd saved Henri-Mae for last.

"Deputy Locke," Brockson said in that slow, deep voice of his. "I'm told that you personally knew the fugitive, John Slocum."

"That's not his real name," Henri-Mae said absently. "Just an alias. But I'm sure you know that."

"Real name, James Cutter," Brockson acquiesced. "Born and raised in Spitpoint, Mississippi. Was without a legal address until he started working for Kelly Rohurst. Who was also your employer until you went up for a two year stint on a grand theft rap."

She chuckled. "Yeah, that's about it. You've done your homework."

"After that mess with Peter McCabe I felt I should know a little more about you, Deputy Locke." He spoke in a slow, easy baritone, his voice not rising and falling much, but allowing that strange accent of his to become more pronounced. It wasn't foreign, had to be some obscure Southern variation.

"So what do you need to know from me?" she asked plainly. It would do her little good to lie to him. She almost wished this whole thing would cost her her job, after that little tussle she'd had with Hogg earlier that day. It felt like a year since that had happened, the way this day was crawling.

"I want to know what contact you had with James Cutter, alias John Slocum," Brockson said.

"Limited," Henri-Mae said. "It was more by reputation. Although the one encounter I had with him made me believe every boogey-man story I'd ever heard about him previous."

"And what was that encounter?"

Henri-Mae hesitated.

**Balladeer: You know, it's bad enough that big Marshal fella knows about her criminal record, her employment with Kelly as a driver in her underground and thereby illegal motorcycle races, and about her extensive, intimate involvement with Peter McCabe. But now he's just sticking his nose into her personal business.**

She sighed, tongue playing idly with her teeth. "About a year or so after I started working for Kelly, I had a run in with him at one of her parties. He was drunk, I was drunk, and I think he thought I was easy to get. When I put up a fight, he just about put me through a window. I woke up the next morning with a concussion _and_ a hangover, which is a combination I hope you _never_ experience. Anyway, it left an unpleasant taste in my mouth, and I steered clear of him ever since. Luckily, he did the same with me. I think Kelly didn't like it that he'd messed up one of her drivers."

"Her _best_ driver, if your reputation was correct," Brockson put in.

She gave a slight shrug. "I try to be modest."

He nodded. "So you spotted this man outside the post office early this morning. How early?"

"About ten," she replied. "I thought I recognized him but I couldn't be sure."

"So what did you do?"

She hitched, but only slightly. This man could smell a lie a mile away. "I went to my superior, Boss Hogg."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I explained what I'd seen. I didn't give Boss intimate details of the reasons for my concerns, but I made it clear that I thought Slocum was dangerous."

"How did he react?"

Another hitch, this one a touch longer. The temptation to rat out Boss appeared, more appealing than she would have thought. Of course, his earlier threat to her, and the possibility of more to come, didn't help her resist that temptation much. Still…"He was pretty caught up in some kind of suspected mail fraud scheme, trying to track down the culprits. I don't think he thought the situations were related. And my hunch didn't do much to concern him. So I went to pursue the matter on my own. By the time I caught up with Slocum the two cases had collided in a most...unpleasant way."

"Did you involve anyone else?" Brockson asked.

She blinked, suddenly thinking of Jed. She'd left him hanging. She'd have to figure out a way to apologize to him later. "What do you mean?" she asked, stalling.

"I mean, did you call any back-up?"

"Everyone else was on the mail fraud case. We're not a big department."

"Well, still, to pursue a man this dangerous on your own...you didn't feel the need to get help?"

"Who was I going to get to help me?" she asked.

"What about your friends in the Duke family?" Brockson asked. "They seem to have a knack for getting involved with a lot of matters of the law."

She narrowed her eyes a bit. "No. Hogg's got a pretty big grudge against them. I think he was trying to figure out if they were at the heart of the mail-fraud scheme. Along with Miss Tisdale, our postmaster...or mistress, whatever."

"Yes, Hogg and his grudge against the Duke boys," Brockson said thoughtfully, pressing his fingertips together. "You have one too, according to the other reports I've taken."

She wondered bitterly who exactly had told him that. It seemed like such a small thing for the Duke boys to do, and there was little reason for Hogg himself to mention it. "Yes, I do."

"You think Boss Hogg may have hired you because of this shared grudge?"

She smiled. "I _know_ it, Marshal. But I've managed to keep this job for a year. I must be doing _something_ else right. How else could an ex-criminal like me hold a job on the right side of the law?"

**Balladeer: Sometimes, a good solid dose of the truth is the best way out of a mess.**

"Good point," Brockson agreed. "Well, all right. I think we're done here for now. Please notify us if you're planning on leaving town in case we have any more questions."

"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," Henri-Mae said, standing up and stretching. Donning her deputy hat, she headed out of the room and left the building.

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The street outside was dark and quiet, except for the low glow of the red lights from the blockade that had been placed around the small town square to protect it. The clock on the bank tower declared that it was in fact eleven at night, much later than she'd suspected. But she wasn't worried as she walked the short distance over to the boarding house -- there had been so sign of Slocum anywhere in Hazzard County, and now they were searching next door Chickasaw.

Shelly was still awake and at the counter when she went in.

**Balladeer: Shelly and her husband Lloyd ran the boarding house, and had recently begun to discuss purchasing it from Hogg, who owned it. Henri-Mae and Shelly had been friends since high school, along with Lula Marie, and Tonya, who lived in Capitol City. **

"You weren't waiting up for me, were you, Mom?" Henri-Mae teased as she pulled the door shut behind her. Shelly smiled at her sleepily.

"Just going over some last minute figures," Shelly said, rubbing her eyes. She was in her robe and pajamas. "Think I'll go to bed now that we've got a full house."

"Yeah, me too," Henri-Mae sighed. "Although how much sleep I'm going to get is anybody's guess."

"I heard they were running you over the grill," Shelly said as she turned off the foyer lights. "I thought I saw that Marshal that was here a few months ago--"

"The one and only Sam Brockson," Henri-Mae grunted as they headed up the stairs.

Shelly shrugged. "He's not so bad. If you go for that macho, body-builder type."

"Which I don't," Henri-Mae said. "You see how skinny his legs are, compared to his arms? Steroids. He's probably got a teeny weeny."

Shelly smirked. "Yeah, you like 'em natural. Real cowboys, hats and horses and all of that."

Henri-Mae turned on her. "And what do _you_ know about it?"

"I saw you talking to him in front of the boarding house," Shelly teased. "You were flirting."

"I was_ not _flirting," Henri-Mae said. "I _couldn't_ be flirting, I saw Slocum, remember?"

"_Before_ you saw Slocum, you were flirting." And with that, Shelly winked at her and disappeared into her room.

With a flustered sigh, Henri-Mae turned to go down the hallway to her own room, but a creaking door drew her attention before she could get ten feet.

**Balladeer: That would be Sue Ann Blake. She had stayed in the boarding house that night on the F.B.I's and Marshal Brockon's orders, and she didn't seem too happy about it. Of course, she didn't seem too happy about anything since watching Slocum's poor partner get slit like a lamb at Passover. **

"Sorry," Henri-Mae said, "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"No, actually, I was waiting to speak to you," Sue Ann said, hands thrust into the pockets of her soft purple robe. The woman definitely liked purple, and it was a good color for her. "With everything going on...sometimes you just need to get your mind off things, you know?"

"I know," Henri-Mae agreed with a tired sigh. "What did you need?"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you about Bo Duke."

An overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over her. _Not this again._ "What did you want to know?" she asked tiredly.

Sue Ann shrugged a shoulder, making her look even more girlish. "I don't know how to put this...I just think he was interested in me before. I wasn't very nice to him, and I feel bad now, after all that happened. I was thinking of...well...what do you know about him? I mean, is he someone you could have a nice evening with? Go to a dance with? Or is he just another rube?"

Henri-Mae blinked, wondering if she'd fallen asleep and was having a dream...a _very_ strange and twisted dream at that. Was Sue Ann actually asking her about _dating Bo Duke_? The thought almost brought a smile to her face, the idea was so damn...novel. "If you asking what I _think_ you're asking," Henri-Mae said in total honestly, "if you stay in town long enough for the Grange dance this Saturday, you couldn't do better than to go with Bo Duke. After the stay you've had here, you need to treat yourself. And he _will_ treat you right, I guarantee it."

Sue Ann looked at her for a moment, and then smiled and nodded. It seemed to be the answer she was looking for. "All right. Thank you, Deputy Locke."

"Henri-Mae," she said. "Call me Henri-Mae." And she went to her room and fell into a deep and thankfully dreamless sleep.

**Balladeer: Well, I do declare that girl just did Bo Duke a good turn. World must be coming to an end.**

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Friday was spent with the entire town of Hazzard in a tense and miserable state. Everyone stayed indoors – nobody took casual walks down the street, went driving through the dirty county roads, shopped in the General Store or even went to the post office. Only Emma Tisdale, glad to be cleared of the whole ugly mess, was at work, happily if guardedly getting her shop back in order, and she begrudgingly accepted the contrite help of Sue Ann, who didn't really have anything better to do.

Henri-Mae, Rosco, Enos and Cletus all spent their time sticking close to the sheriff's office, all of them on a full-day shift (although none could go anywhere, as they had been strictly ordered to stay out of the search), and none of them willing to be left out of the loop. Boss Hogg sulked in his office, close to the CB, listening to the buzzing reports from the various search parties that were still looking for Slocum.

Nothing came. It was as if the man had vanished.

It didn't help that the three search helicopters were flying low and loud over Hazzard and its surrounding counties for the better part of the afternoon, taking advantage of the noon-day sun, only to start up again in the evening after sunset, this time with thick bright white spotlights. All three deputies, the sheriff, and the county commissioner stayed on alert, half-hoping and half-dreading Slocum seemingly inevitable arrest.

Still, nothing. No trace of him, from Chickasaw to the border of Capitol City. It was around five in the morning on Saturday, Rosco and Cletus dozing at their desks, Enos awake and alert on the main step as the sun cracked the horizon, and Henri-Mae pacing outside of Boss' office, from which he hadn't emerged the entire time, that the call came.

All was clear. They were moving out. If Slocum had been there, he wasn't anymore. They'd overturned every rock they could find and there wasn't a trace. They were going to push farther out to the surrounding counties and Capitol City, maybe even Atlanta itself, and put the alert out there. But he wasn't in Hazzard. It simply wasn't big enough of a place for him to have hidden successfully all this while.

Boss emerged from his office at about five-thirty, looking bleary eyed and rumpled. He had apparently been sleeping in his barber's chair, but not very peaceably from the look on his face.

"I want everyone here for a meeting in the town square at noon," Boss said to his employees. "And I want all four of you out there spreading the message personally." His eyes went temporarily to Henri-Mae, but quickly blinked away. "Divvy up the county and get going." And placing his hat on his head, he headed out the front door, into his white Cadillac, and headed home.

The next few minutes were spent with Rosco splitting the county in four parts and handing out parts accordingly. She was exceedingly happy when she was given neither the section where the Dukes resided (that was Enos') or Jed's horse ranch was located (Rosco took that bit himself), and headed out on her bike.

It took a while to track down everyone in her corner. Even though Hazzard was small, the people didn't stay in one place. On the main road coming in from Atlanta was a sign declaring that Hazzard's population was unknown because "They won't let us count them." Such was also the case when it came to visits from the law. It was nearly ten by the time she finished tracking everyone down, and she was exhausted.

The Boar's Nest wasn't open yet, but it was unlocked when she got there. She half-expected to see her other three co-workers there already, sipping beers and attempting to relax after the previous and incredibly tense thirty-six hours. But it was dark, and Boss was in his office, the door cracked open and a sliver of light piercing the late morning shadows.

Knowing it was better to announce herself, Henri-Mae called, "Boss, it's Deputy Locke!"

The door was pulled open and Boss came into the main room, filling it with more light. "Oh, it's you, Henri-Mae," he said, but there was a tone in his voice that belied that he knew exactly who was there, and had even been expecting her.

"Yeah," she said lamely.

He cleared his throat. "I was pleased to hear that you kept me out of your story when you talked to Marshal Brockson," he said, but his tone opposed his words. "At least, when it came to your silly suspicions about me."

She bridled. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Boss. I'm not Rosco. Hell, I'm not even Enos."

This had been the wrong thing to say, but damn it felt good to say it. Only now was she starting to feel the weight of this man's thumb on her life. Had it really been there all this time? "Watch your tone with me, Deputy," Boss said, and now there was no hint of that wheedling tone he'd had before. Boss was pure anger, and it was something she had never really expected to see. "Don't think I don't know how much you wanted to rat me out. But lack of evidence, as is what keeps me from getting those Dukes behind bars, worked in my advantage this time."

"I wasn't going to rat you out, Boss," she said, and it was half-true. She didn't have any proof, just her know-how of how things worked around here. "Although the words, 'I told you so' seem to keep coming to the tip of my tongue right now—"

He ruffled. Yes, she had told him. How dangerous Slocum was, but he hadn't listened, and now he had Federal Marshals all over his county. Which really pissed him off. But he wasn't contrite to her, not one little bit. "I'm very disappointed in you, Henri-Mae," he said, his voice heavy.

She almost jumped. "In _me_? For _what_?"

"When I hired you, I thought you and I were on the same page," Boss said. "I thought we wanted the same thing – paybacks on the Dukes for all the damage they've done."

She pressed her teeth together very hard, trying to muffle all the horrible things that came to her just then. No sense in digging her grave any deeper than she could climb out. "Yeah, well…" she managed.

"And now things have changed. You're actually _watching out_ for them. Like you think you're a real deputy or something."

It was like a slap in the face. When had she started to think of herself as a real deputy? Apparently, she had, and it wasn't until just now that it was abundantly clear to her that Hogg had never thought of her that way, and the blow was devastating.

"I—" Oh, yes, the rebellious streak. The thing that had lived in her since the day her mother walked out, the voice that always had to speak up, have a comeback, a defense, an excuse, it railed in her like a wild bull, bucking and throwing its weight around. "I managed to act like a real deputy long enough to arrest a mass murderer," she said, her voice higher-pitched than she liked.

"McCabe," Hogg shrugged it off. "You were just cleaning up your own mess. Well, let's make something clear here, young miss. I didn't hire you to snoop around in my business and make trouble for me. I already got Enos to do that, and the only reason he's still around is because everybody in Hazzard _loves_ him. But everybody in Hazzard _does not_ love _you_, you go that? And unless you start being a team player again, you're going to be looking for a new job, in _another county_, 'cause I can guarantee you that _you won't find a thing_ around here. Are we clear?"

Henri-Mae stared down at him. Her fist clenched, and she fought hard against the impulse to pound the man into the ground. Oh, she wanted to – wanted to feel the greasy meat of his fat little body under her fists, hear his squeals for mercy. But instead, instinct betrayed her, and to her own horror, her eyes filled with tears.

"I said, _are we clear_?" he asked again, more roughly.

"Yes, sir," she said, barely above a whisper so he wouldn't hear how her throat had closed.

"Good. Now get going, you have a meeting to be at, at noon."

With that, he turned and went back into his office, slamming the door behind him. Henri-Mae stood there for a moment, went outside, got on her bike, and managed to make it around the corner from the Boar's Nest before she burst into tears.


	5. You Can't Do Anything Normal

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah. Let's be specific. Aside from Bo and Luke, obviously, I also don't own Slocum (thank God) or Sue Ann. They're just convenient toys laid out for me to play with. I do, however, own Henri-Mae, her girl-friends, and Jed. Mmmm...Jed. This is what happens when two obsessions get run together.

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Everybody showed up for Boss' town meeting in the square. He gave some speech about securing the safety of Hazzard County, and then went on to say that they would indeed be having the Grange Dance that night, to lift up the spirits of the townsfolk. Everyone seemed to be quite happy about this, and they scattered to the wind to begin to make preparations.

Henri-Mae stayed on the edge of the crowd. Back in her civies, she didn't draw any attention, and was able to listen to Boss' words without feeling the urge to throw herself in front of a train.

It occurred to her, somewhere in her self-berating, that her father would never have wanted to see her end up like this. True enough, Cyrus Locke had never been one of Boss' favorite people, but Cyrus had always managed to stay independent of the City Commissioner, and most of all, out of his way. Sometimes, she wondered if her rebellious nature didn't come from her father. But that just left her wondering how well she'd really known her father, and that just pushed the boulder of depression that had started to form on her shoulders deeper into her back, until she almost felt like she couldn't walk upright.

"Afternoon, ma'am," came a soft, familiar voice over her shoulder. She looked up to see, as the crowd started to mill around her, that Jed Davidson was at her shoulder, not too close, but close enough for her to see the concern in his face.

"Afternoon, Jed," she replied, straightening. "And it's okay, when I'm off duty you can call me Henri-Mae." He gave her a little, pleased smile, but she didn't pay much attention. Her eyes drifted to the crowd, searching for the Duke family – mainly so she could avoid them. She caught the familiar blue flash of Luke Duke's plaid shirt, and turned away, back to Jed, hoping the sight of her in conversation with someone might make her blend in a bit more. "What can I do for you?" she asked.

"Actually, I was going to ask you that," he said, removing his hat. "Beautiful sunshiny day and you look like a dark cloud is hanging over your head."

She blinked. This was the _last_ thing she needed. Shoving her hands into her pockets, her mind raced for an excuse. "Just tired, that's all," she said. "We were all up all night over the whole...escaped fugitive thing."

"Oh." But he didn't seem convinced. He eyed her warily, and for a moment she felt totally transparent. As if he knew… "Well, I hope you get some rest in time for the Grange Dance tonight," he said mildly. "Sounds like it's a much needed relaxer this evening."

"Truth be told, I probably won't be there," she said, stepping off to the side a bit, and before she could let that sudden disappointed look settle on his face, she added, "After taking the rest of today off I'm probably going to be back on duty. Boss isn't too happy with any of us right now."

"Ah. Well, I guess I can understand that."

The crowd around them had thickened, and now it was starting to thin off. She looked at him, and said, "Jed, I want to thank you for your help—"

"Oh, please, don't even mention it—"

"No," she said, holding up a hand. "I mean it. I also appreciate you not saying anything to…_anybody_. About me asking you to help." She looked around again, noticed Rosco had seen her and was starting to make his way over to her. "Boss wouldn't like it, me getting civilians involved with police business, and Rosco would like it even _less_." She made a hushing gesture as the sheriff got closer. "Okay?"

He smiled at her. There was a message in that smile, the warmth of it, as if he understood more than she could ever dream. "Don't worry about it one bit, Henri-Mae," he said sincerely, using her name for the first time. Then, looking up, he said, "Good afternoon, Sheriff Coltrane."

Henri-Mae turned to find herself facing Rosco. He nodded back at Jed, but dismissively, his full attention on Henri-Mae. "Henrietta, I want to talk to you," he said.

Her stomach dropped. Boss had said something to him and now she was going to get it from both ends. She had always suspected that Rosco had a crush on her, but now that illusion was going out the window, along with everything else. "Sure thing, Sheriff," she said, and tossed Jed a little wave over her shoulder. "See you around."

"I want you to take tonight off," Rosco said once they were clear.

"Any more days off, Sheriff, and I won't be able to make my rent next month," she said, covering her nerves with an equally nervous laugh.

"No, seriously," Rosco said. "After McCabe a few months ago and this new guy coming in…you're stressed out, I can see it. I'll talk to Boss, see if you can get a long weekend—"

She sighed, heavily. "Rosco, _please_, I appreciate it, but _don't._ Boss isn't happy with me and he is _not_ going to be willing to give me any more time off. At least not without punishing me worse for it later," she added in a mutter. That morning's conversation still stung like an open wound.

Rosco looked at her. He was much older than her – sometimes she wondered if he was old enough to be her father, but surely he couldn't be _that_ old. "Look, Henri-Mae," he said, and he rarely ever used her nickname, "I know how Boss can be. You just can't take him too seriously."

She laughed, bitterly. She couldn't help it. "Rosco, really…Boss sees me in an entirely different way than he sees you. Don't worry yourself about it—"

"Well, I can't help it. Whatever he said to you put a rainstorm over your head and that just doesn't sit well with me. You just have to learn to do what I do, and eventually things'll return to normal."

She couldn't take it anymore. Of all the people to confide in, Rosco was not her first, second or even fourth choice, but it was going to come out of her whether she liked it or not. "Rosco, trust me, when it comes to Boss, _I am not you_. He meant _every word_ he said to me this morning, and if you want to stay in his good graces, you _do not_ want to get yourself involved in this."

To her own shock, she realized her voice was shaking, and this only made Rosco worse. If there had been any doubt about him having a soft spot for her before, there was no doubt now. Angrily, but not directed at her, he said, "Why? What exactly did he say to you?"

She choked up. There was no way she could tell Rosco what Boss said. How he'd threatened to fire her. First of all, if it got back to Boss, well…that was a no-win situation. And second, possibly worse, was that Rosco would most likely agree with what Boss said, about how she wasn't putting the screws to the Dukes anymore like she was supposed to be doing. So instead, she just shook her head, her hand going inadvertently to her mouth.

Rosco just stared at her. "That bad, huh?" he said, his voice low. Then, awkwardly, he patted her shoulder. "Well, like I said, you don't get your braids all in a knot over whatever he said. I'm watching your back, Henri-Mae, and I promise you, I'll do whatever I can to get him off it. Your back, that is," he added, embarrassed.

In spite of herself, she smiled. "You're sweet, Rosco," she said, and gave him a little peck on the cheek before heading back to the boarding house.

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"Come on, sleepy head, wake_ up_," came a familiar voice.

Henri-Mae opened her eyes and immediately shut them at the sudden and blinding influx of light. She was _sure_ she had pulled her drapes heavily shut before passing out on her bed, face down, and upside-down.

"Wha…(gurgle)…what?" she managed. Attempting to turn, she found that Lula Marie was in her room, standing at her small closet, ruffling through various pieces of clothing.

"Don't you own anything that isn't black?" Lula said, shoving hangar after hangar aside.

"Black is thinning," Henri-Mae managed, getting to a sitting position and un-cricking her neck, which had been bent at an odd angle as it had half-dangled off the foot of her bed while she slept. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Shelly let me in. You were going to be late for the dance. Hell, you already _are_ late, but _fashionably_ late, at least." Finally, she pulled out a hangar with a sundress on it. "How about this?"

"Too purple," Henri-Mae said, reaching for the glass of water she always kept at her bedside. "Maybe I should give that to Sue Ellen, she likes purple."

"Sue _Ann_," Lula corrected her. "Okay, how about this blue one? It's more like an evening dress but it'll work." She pulled out a light greenish-blue halter-dress, made of a thick, shimmering, silk-like material that hung just above the knees. With long straight lines, a thigh-hugging skirt and a scooped neck, it was possibly Henri-Mae's favorite dress, but one she never had a reason to wear.

"I look like Donna Reed in that dress," Henri-Mae mumbled. "And I'm _not_ going to the dance. I'm exhausted."

"No, you're depressed, which is completely different. Going to the dance will cheer you up." Lula went to the small chest of drawers where she produced a bra. "I brought you some hoes from the store in case you needed some," she said, pointing at the package sitting on top of the dresser.

"What, do you have spy equipment pinned onto me?" Henri-Mae asked, indignant.

"Nope, just the Boar's Nest," Lula said. Then she added, with a smile, "Come on, Henri-Mae. I know you. I saw you keeping all to yourself at the town meeting, I saw Rosco talking to you. Something must have been horribly wrong for you to go soft enough to kiss him on the cheek." She went back to the closet. "I think these white sandals will go nicely."

"I told you," Henri-Mae said, folding her arms in defiance. "_I'm not going_."

"Of course you are," Lula said matter-of-factly. "You need to go. That Jed Davidson is persistent but he's not going to wait forever. I think pearls would go well with this, don't you? I'll go see if Shelly has any you could borrow while you get dressed."

Henri-Mae watched her go, jaw dropped at Lula's sheer gall. But then, Boss' words rang into her head…"_nobody in Hazzard loves_ you." Well, she'd just see about that.

Reluctantly, she started to get dressed.

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**Balladeer: One blue dress, a pair of white sandals, and a string of borrowed pearls later, Henri-Mae was following Lula Marie down the stairs and out the door. The boarding house was just off the main square of town, in walking distance to just about anything in the main strip, and the dance took over the entire area, spilling out into some of the side streets with revelers and tables covered with bright checkered paper so that all could be comfortable. **

"See?" Lula Marie said as they stepped out into the fresh early-evening air. "Nothing deadly about it. Your head didn't explode."

"Never said it would," Henri-Mae said, and then caught a familiar, tangy whiff. "Wonder how close the barbeque is to being done?" she mused aloud.

"We could go find out," Lula suggested.

"Maybe we should wait. At least until the sun goes down a bit. That way when I get sauce on this dress it won't show as badly."

"Oh, and here I thought your sense of humor was R.I.P."

"Oh ha." Henri-Mae looked around. It was early, but everyone was already there. The thick gray clouds of smoke rose from the barbeque pits as they worked furiously, trying to feed everyone. Lines had already gathered and she caught a flash of a familiar shade of purple.

"That woman is a purple _nut_," Henri-Mae murmured. Lula looked to where Henri-Mae's gaze rested.

"It's a good color on her," she pointed out.

"Purple suit, purple robe, purple dress," Henri-Mae listed. "Get some variety. She'd look good in sunflowers, don't you think?"

"Might be a tad big for her, she bein' so petite an' all," Lula drawled.

"She's pretty tough for a little lady," Henri-Mae said. "She should be able to handle Bo just fine."

Lula Marie looked at her. "You're smiling," she said.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Lula shrugged. "I just thought…well, assuming never does any of us any good, I guess."

"Why? What did you assume?"

Lula looked at her again. "You mean to tell me that's _not_ the reason why you were so depressed earlier today?"

"Now I'm just about convinced you've been spying on me," Henri-Mae said, as she found an empty picnic table and sat down right on the top, feet resting comfortably on the bench.

Lula sat down beside her. "Well, Shelly said when you came in before you looked like you'd been crying," she said. "I just thought…I mean, honest to God?"

"Honest to God what?" Henri-Mae asked, starting to get a little annoyed. "Lu, just come to the point already. You think I'm jealous of Bo and Sue Ann?"

"Well, she asked him out not ten feet away from you, in the town square before," Lula said. "You didn't see?"

Henri-Mae blinked. "No, I didn't."

"I mean, you were talking to Jed and then_ poof_, off you were with Rosco. I just thought…huh, well how about that?"

"Yeah," Henri-Mae said. "And how about I'm the one who told her to ask him out? She felt bad because she blew off his flirting the day before. You know Bo and that wounded puppy look, never fails him."

"Ah, _now_ you're starting to sound more like the Henri-Mae I know. So then why'd you blow off Jed so fast?"

"I didn't blow him off," Henri-Mae said, and then realized where this conversation was going. "Rosco was worried about me."

"Rosco always worries about you, he just never tells you," Lula said. "What made this time so particular?"

She hesitated. But then again, Lula was about the only person she really trusted. "Boss got on me earlier…" Then slowly, carefully, and rather softly to make sure no one else would hear, Henri-Mae told her about how she had warned Boss about Slocum, how he hadn't listened and instead accused her of siding with the Dukes against him, how he had threatened her twice, the second being the most upsetting, although now that she thought about it, it was much meaner of him to want to pin false charges on her, with her record. "And now, unless I get back on the team, meaning the Hazzard Sheriff's Department verses the Duke family, well, my future in Hazzard isn't going to be that bright. Or long."

Lula Marie was silent for a long moment. Then she said, "Well, if you need a place to stay, you can always come crash with me. For however long. I mean it."

"Thanks," Henri-Mae said sincerely.

"And I'm very glad that you've figured out that there are much better things to do that pine after a Duke boy."

**Balladeer: That girl is as wise as she is kind. One day she's gonna make some guy insanely happy if he's smart enough to appreciate her.**

Henri-Mae shot her a look. "Am I the only one?"

"You're changing the subject, but no, I've figured it out, too." Lula sighed, gazing across the square to where Luke was talking to a few of Hazzard's prettiest. "For a while I thought, I can dream, can't I? But when reality is so much nicer—"

"Reality?"

"Yeah. I think I've met someone."

"You _think_ you have, or you _have_? Because there is a big difference—"

"All right, I did. Through work."

"What work? You work on the computer all day….oh, is this an internet thing?"

Lula snorted. "Unfortunately. Which is why I'm really not sure. But he's nice."

"Kiss of death."

"Oh hush," Lula said, nudging Henri-Mae with her elbow. The other giggled even as she righted herself. "You should talk. You've got a man right in front of you. You can't do anything normal."

"I don't know," Henri-Mae sighed. "I don't like it when the guy is so obviously interested in me."

Lula snorted. "Oh, I forgot. You go for those strong, silent, criminal types."

"Cheap shot," Henri-Mae muttered. But she grew quiet for a moment, gazing around the square.

"So what's wrong with Mr. Davidson?" Lula asked. "I mean, really?"

"Really? Nothing," Henri-Mae said. "The question you _should_ be asking is, what's wrong with me?"

"I always ask that question," Lula teased, and then realized Henri-Mae was serious. "What are you saying?"

Henri-Mae pushed her thick honey-colored locks behind her shoulders. It was a nervous habit. "Sometimes," she said, her tone wistful, "sometimes…I wonder if maybe I should never have stayed in Hazzard."

Absorbing these words carefully, Lula said, "Where would you have gone?"

"Maybe back to Vegas," Henri-Mae said. "That's where I was, the last two years. Open desert, bright lights…"

"Insanely hot temperatures, crowded casinos," Lula chimed in.

"Paid off policemen who didn't interfere with the races," Henri-Mae added, a strange tone in her voice. She gave Lula a look. "Honey, haven't you figured it out yet? I'm damaged goods. First McCabe, now Slocum…I mean, haven't you seen the kind of checkered past I've got? I don't want to get a nice guy like Jed mixed up with a girl like me."

"So now he's a nice guy, huh? Kiss of death."

Henri-Mae chuckled. "No, everybody is better off as they are."

Lula shrugged. "Maybe. Seems to me you're writing yourself off too quickly."

"No, I've given some serious thought to this," Henri-Mae sighed. "A leopard can't change her stripes…or something like that. Maybe I should leave Hazzard."

"Okay, this conversation is seriously going to have to change," Lula said, a touch of force in her voice. "This is your home now, you know. Rosco isn't going to let Boss fire you—"

"Please," Henri-Mae snorted. "The day Rosco has the power to keep Boss from doing anything, I'll---"

The conversation was interrupted by the sudden sound of a drum counting off beats, and their voices were promptly drowned out as the band started to play.


	6. Inexplicable Goosebumps

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't tell. Double update, so be sure you read chapter five. BTW, this fanfic is completed, and will be posted in its entirely. I have a new policy. Never post a fanfic you haven't finished. I've just been forgetful about updating. Sorry.

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"I don't know, I think he's pretty cute," Shelly said as they headed toward the center of the crowd, where couples danced and swung each other in front of the bandstand, currently unoccupied. The music was coming from a set of heavy speakers on either side, being pumped from the local radio station. The band was on break.

**Balladeer: Now that the sun's gone down, the party is really going to get swinging. And it seemed like told times with Lula, Shelly and Henri-Mae together, and Shelly having her two cents to say about the attentions of Jed Davidson.**

Lula Marie gave a slight laugh. "Cute isn't everything," she pointed out.

"Oh hell," Henri-Mae grunted. "Will you two knock it off? Come on, he's _flirting_. That's what boys _do_, they _flirt_. They see a pretty girl and they flirt with her, end of story."

Shelly shrugged one shoulder, running a hand through her red curls "Well," she said, "usually, _normal_ people would interpret flirting as a sign of _interest_."

Henri-Mae shrugged. "Whatever," she said. She didn't want to have this conversation again. It was bad enough that Lula had brought up Jed to Shelly in the first place.

"And," Shelly went on, "it wouldn't be unthinkable for you to get involved with someone who _isn't_ Bo Duke."

"I wonder if Tonya's going to come into town tonight?" Lula Marie said, changing the subject.

"She's got more interesting things to do that come to a dance in Hazzard," Henri-Mae snorted, but she was grateful for the diversion.

"I don't know," Lula Marie mused. "I get the feeling sometimes she comes here because it's simpler. Can't be easy for her, doing what she does."

"Is that sympathy for Tonya I hear?" Henri-Mae teased.

Lula Marie shrugged. "Hey, she's human. Technically she's a friend." A wicked look flashed in her eyes. "Maybe she'd be a little more responsive to Jed's flirting. Teach you a thing or two."

"Traitor," Henri-Mae muttered. By then they had reached the outskirts of the crowd. Familiar faces floated everywhere, so many more than when Henri-Mae had first come into town. Working as a deputy had certainly made her much more popular…and not in the good sense, either.

Still, the people had some respect for her, if for no other reason than she wore a badge on her chest for half the day. And she wasn't anywhere near as bad as Rosco, who made up tickets for any old charge. Half the time Henri-Mae lacked the enthusiasm. She usually only got creative when it came to making trouble for Bo…but with her lack of enthusiasm for that, it was no wonder Boss was annoyed with her.

Still, it hung over her head like a stormcloud.

"Henri-Mae!" called a mildly unfamiliar voice, and unwittingly, she cast around her to locate the source. A flash of purple caught her eye and she saw a slender hand waving in the air. It belonged to Sue Ann Blake, who, sure enough, sported a soft purple dress.

Henri-Mae waved back, politely enough. Just over Sue Ann's shoulder, she could see Bo approaching with two jars of moonshine, a tradition on occasions such as this. He looked good, wearing instead of his traditional yellow shirt, a short sleeved, ruby-red shirt that really brought out the pink of his cheeks. His eyes drifted up toward where the girls were standing, following Sue Ann's gaze, and by the time he realized it, Sue Ann was already close enough to talk to Henri-Mae.

"Wow, Deputy Locke, you clean up really well," Sue Ann said. She also flashed a smile at Shelly, whom she knew from the boarding house, but puzzled eyes landed on Lula, to whom Henri-Mae introduced her quickly.

"Lula runs the General Store," Henri-Mae explained.

"Oh, really?" Sue Ann had class, and having class meant that she didn't have to fake enthusiasm for other people's histories. "Can I ask why you call it Rhuebottoms?"

Lula smiled. "I was going to rename it Pricket's Market, but I decided to keep the Rhuebottom name, after the man who originally owned it."

"That's sweet," Sue Ann commented.

Bo chuckled. "Yeah, well, if you changed the name, half the people in Hazzard wouldn't even know what it was anymore."

"That too," Lula agreed.

"So I hope you've seen Hazzard in a more positive light," Henri-Mae said, and pointedly ignored Lula's raised eyebrow.

Sue Ann linked arms with Bo, flashing him a smile. The lipstick she wore had a faintly purple sheen, and Henri-Mae realized why she was so centered on that color. It complemented her complexion like rose on a sunset. "I most certainly have," she said. "Bo gave me a tour of the sights earlier today, after that Marshal lifted the ban on the roads. It's really too bad that Hazzard Highlands was a big fraud, I could see why people would be anxious to move here."

"Ah, Bo was giving you the tour, eh?" Lula said, and lightly elbowed Shelly. "Did he show you the lake?"

"It was the last place we stopped," Sue Ann said. Bo glanced at Lula frowning slightly.

"It's called Lover's Lake by the locals," Shelly said, following Lula's lead and drawing Bo's puzzled gaze to her. "On account that so many like to get romantic there."

Sue Ann raised an eyebrow at the two women. Then, inexplicably, Henri-Mae perked up.  
"Bo, is your cousin Luke around?"

Bo looked at her, the frown lifting in utter confusion. "Yeah, he's somewhere," he said smoothly, trying not display his emotions for all to see.

"Ah, probably surrounded by girls," Henri-Mae said, casting a throwaway look over her shoulder as she clasped her hands loosely behind her back. "Wouldn't know Luke Duke to tie himself down to a single date."

"Why do you want to know?" Bo asked, as politely as he could.

"Yeah, Henri-Mae, why _do_ you want to know?" Lula murmured.

Henri-Mae shrugged. "Figured if he wasn't committed to anybody, he'd like to dance. That boy sure can _dance,_ can't he?"

Lula let out a heavy sigh. Henri-Mae smirk just widened. She'd won.

Then Bo looked up. "Seems to me that somebody else has his eye on you for a dance," he said, and there was just the mildest tension in his voice.

Henri-Mae looked over her shoulder, and for a moment, was a bit overwhelmed. Jed Davidson stood not too far away, the crowd having milled around enough to place a clear line of view between him and her. He was dressed impeccably in a starched white shirt, buttoned to the second button and exposing just a small triangle of tanned chest, and a pair of dark blue jeans complete with black cowboy boots. And he was looking at her.

He was alone. She was a bit surprised by this. Normally strangers in Hazzard were given the grand treatment, and he was good looking enough to even rival the Duke boys in popularity with the ladies. Sipping at a paper cup in his hand, though, he seemed detached and alert at the same time. Except that his eyes, now, were fastened on her.

Distinctly, though, she heard Lula say, "Shelly, where did you say that husband of yours had gotten off to?"

"He's with the kids," Shelly replied breezily. "They dragged him off to play carnival games. I'm thinking I should check on him, make sure they haven't talked him into letting them eat too many funnel cakes."

"I'll join you," Lula said. "Funnel cake sounds great right now." And the two of them shuffled off.

Jed had approached by this point. His eyes left Henri-Mae only to go to Bo and extend his hand. "Good to see you, Bo."

The two men shook hands. "Jed," Bo said. "This is Sue Ann Blake. She's a member of the Postal Inspector Service…"

"Close enough," Sue Ann said graciously, shaking Jed's hand. Her eyes went from him to Henri-Mae, who continued to stand there, trying not to look directly at Jed, hands still behind her back in a nervous gesture.

"Oh, were you here on account of that mess I heard about the other day?" Jed asked. He glanced briefly at Henri-Mae.

"Unfortunately," Henri-Mae sighed, exchanging sympathetic looks with Sue Ann. "Thankfully it's passed now."

"Thankfully," Jed echoed, turning to Bo. "It's good to know that you came out that whole thing in one piece. Henri-Mae was pretty worried about you and your cousin before."

Henri-Mae tried not to choke. Bo's eyes darted to her.

"You were worried, Henri-Mae?" Bo teased.

"I'm a deputy, it's my job to worry about Hazzard's citizens," she managed.

"I think Boss would disagree when it came to the Duke family." At this, Henri-Mae looked away from the trio of them, wondering what it would take to get her away from them without appearing rude.

"Yeah, I have heard a few things about that," Jed said. "Well, pleased to see you driving and thriving."

"I'd second that, except for the driving part," Henri-Mae said, suddenly realizing what Jed was doing. He was testing her. It was a classic standoff, between the old suitor and the new one. It was almost charming.

Bo grinned at her. "I think we should add dancing to that list," he said, and turned to Sue Ann. "Would you care to?"

She smiled and linked arms with him. The couple excused themselves, and Henri-Mae found herself alone with Jed.

He turned to her, still holding his cup in one hand, the other hand thrust into his pocket. "So," he said, giving her a tentative smile.

"So," she echoed, her arms folded against a sudden chill. Goosebumps inexplicably appeared on her arms. Was she cold? She didn't feel cold.

He stepped closer to her, as the crowd drifted about them and threatened to nearly come between them. She had to tilt her head back a little more to meet his gaze. Eye contact suddenly seemed very important. She was no wilting flower. "So how about you? Would you care to dance?"

She glanced toward the bandstand. The band was in full swing, in the middle of one of their heavy country numbers, guitars twanging and drums rolling. "I'm not a huge fan of country music," she said.

He shrugged one shoulder, the corner of his mouth still lifted in that grin of his. "Neither am I, really. I'm partial mostly to swing."

"Swing?" Henri-Mae echoed, intrigued. "You mean like forties big bands?"

"Something like that," Jed said. "Only a little more modern. Like the Cherry Poppin' Daddies, you know them?"

"Know them?" Henri-Mae smiled, pleasant memories coming back to her. "I saw them once in a club in New York. You ever been to New York?"

He looked at her for a moment, a pause lingering between them. As if he was waiting for something. But when she continued to wait for his answer, he relaxed. She saw it in the shifting of his shoulder muscles. "No, never had the pleasure," he said, but there was something in his voice…

The band ended their current number, and the singer started to talk about how he was going to give his voice a rest. A young lady that had been playing one of the acoustic guitars came forward and started to sing, and it sounded to Henri-Mae almost like Belinda Carlisle. Definitely less country.

"That sounds a bit more my speed," she heard herself saying aloud.

"Ah, so then you wouldn't mind dancing to it?"

Her eyes turned to him. She wasn't sure if she was relieved to find that odd moment had passed, but whatever the case, she didn't have the heart to turn him down. Not when he was being so gentlemanly. "Sure," she said, unfolding her arms, and found him offering his hand to her. She took it, not wanting to make a big thing out of it, but the feeling of his fingers closing on hers…

It got worse. He gently pulled her into his arm, taking her other hand in his in the classic dancing position, and not the half-hug that so many seemed to favor these days. Strong fingers pressed against her middle back, not too high and not too low. Her arm rested along his, the soft hairs that grew on his smooth skin brushing against her skin. Why was she so aware of their contact? Why was she suddenly so horribly self-conscious?

She felt the muscles in her entire upper body tense up. She was holding herself away, even the way her hand rested on his shoulder, feeling the muscles ripple with his movements. Her wrist ached and her hips began to cramp…

"Are you okay?" he asked, gazing down at her.

She floundered for some excuse. Instead, her feet took matters into their own hands and pushed her forward a few more inches, not flush up against him but enough to make her unclench. She was afraid she was too close to him for a moment, but he seemed to smile and adjusted himself to her, letting his hip ever so lightly brush her stomach.

It clicked instantly. Two pieces in a puzzle. The thought that she was too close to him dissolved under the realization that he was as comfortable as she was with this amount of contact. And she was divinely comfortable.

"Fine now," she said, almost against his shoulder. He smiled at her. It made his dark hazel eyes shimmer blue.


	7. Lack of Evidence

Disclaimer: The usual. You were expecting something different?

A/N: If I'd just pay attention I wouldn't have to double update every time. But a few nights ago I finished the next installment in this series and I'd like to get that posted sometime. :)

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**Balladeer: Shelly and Lloyd had two kids, the just-turned-five Molly and the almost-three Tom. Molly was a spitfire and looked exactly like her daddy, while little Tom was only now starting to come into his terrible two's. Lloyd had taken them away to play the games, but after it became clear that neither kid could carry any more prizes they came back to eat with the others. And was it worth it. There ain't nothin' like Hazzard barbeque.**

"Don't play with your food, baby," Shelly was saying quietly to Molly. The little girl was wedged between her mother and Henri-Mae, her favorite place to be when it came to eat, as it was Lloyd whose job it was to wrestle with Tom. The little boy was well on his way to feeding himself, except that he preferred to try to create different kinds of Pollack Jackson art with the multi-colored baby food, rather than getting it into his mouth. Shelly was watching this with amusement, as her husband was on the other side of the picnic table, across from her, with Tom's high-chair perched a safe distance from the other diners.

On the sly, Henri-Mae passed bits of biscuit to Molly, who gobbled them greedily, opening her mouth like a trap door and closing it again just as soon as Henri-Mae's fingers were cleared. Shelly had gotten into some kind of non-carb diet and was forcing it on Molly as well, as the little girl seemed a bit pudgy for her age. Lloyd continuously argued with her for it, claiming he went through the exact same stage, "And I've got baby pictures to prove it!" and the man had turned out rod-thin and in perfect health. Normally, Henri-Mae wouldn't have interfered with Shelly's parenting, as it brought out a maturity to her that Henri-Mae liked about her old gossiping friend, but seeing poor Molly's disappointment whenever she wasn't allowed to take a biscuit was too much to bear.

Around them the air was buzzing with sound. The band was on break and nearly everyone was eating, as the next round of barbeque was done and nearly falling off the hog. The picnic tables were lined up neatly, like soldiers, all in a row. At the first table was Henri-Mae, with Jed on her left and Molly and Shelly on her right. Across from her were Bo and Luke, Sue Ann between them, Lloyd on the end with Tom. Daisy and Uncle Jesse were at the next able over, Jesse laughing and carrying on with his neighbors, Daisy attempting to eat between the boys who came over attempting to reserve a dance.

"You keep doing that, she's gonna catch you," Jed said softly to her. Henri-Mae shot him a surprised look, caught his smile, and then smiled back.

"Please, she's having too much fun watching Lloyd," she replied, slipping Molly another piece of biscuit. It felt comfortable, sitting there with him, bantering lightly, even with Bo practically across from her. In fact, it wasn't until a good long while after it had happened that she noticed how normal if felt.

"So what exactly do you do again, Jed?" Sue Ann was asking, even as Henri-Mae passed Molly the last piece and barely got her hands away in time.

"Leave the fingers, Mol!" Henri-Mae whispered at her. Molly just grinned at her impishly.

"Horses are my business, ma'am," Jed replied. "Breeding and training, mostly. I'm just starting up but I was told that Hazzard is a good place for it."

"Sure enough," Bo agreed. "Not too many ranches around here, but farther west, where the farms are bigger, and outside Atlanta, places near as big as plantations need them for their hands."

"Hands?" Sue Ann asked, looking at her own pale palms.

"He means the workers that run the place," Luke explained. "Good work on a farm like that, real cowboys and Indians kind of stuff—" Then he frowned, a flash of light crossing over his face.

Henri-Mae caught his gaze and glanced over her shoulder. Her ears caught the sound of tires on gravel before her eyes focused on the familiar car that was pulling up to the edge of the blockade. She slid around, attempting to get her legs out from underneath the picnic table without flashing all of Hazzard, but seeing Sam Brockson's tight blond curls appear over the roof, and his extremely broad shoulders follow, suddenly made her tense.

She glanced around, not getting up yet. Molly was leaning back, her feet straight out under the table, her hands grasping the checkered table cloth, her head practically upside-down and curls dangling inches above the ground. "What's up?" she chirped, thinking it was just another partier come to join the crowd.

"Honey, watch it!" Shelly admonished, reaching out to pull Molly up.

Brockson was walking directly over to Henri-Mae, and he took one look at her appearance and scowled.

"I take it you're not still on duty?" he asked, the scorn in his voice.

She stood up, folding her arms. She was vaguely aware that the entire table behind her had stopped eating and was listening intently. "Everybody takes time off," she said.

Brockson grinned. He looked particularly tired and cranky, and the look was not pleasant. "Well. You have to work first, in order to take time off."

Her face darkened. It was bad enough that he picked on her. For him to pick on her in front of God and everyone, was a bit too much. Tossing her hair to one side, a sure sign that she was pissed that Shelly caught, if no one else, she said, "Exactly what is it about me that you don't like, Marshal Brockson? Is it that I'm a woman doing a man's job? Or do you just think I'm a pain in the ass? Because _that_ I can understand, but if you're really just a misogynistic asshole, I'd really like to know."

He pulled up short. Her folded arms and arched eyebrows matched his iron-like features. It was like watching two rams at a standoff. Then, upon seeing the other eyes upon him, Brockson withdrew, just a touch. "Take your pick," he said softly, and then, "regardless, we've got a problem. We have intel that says that Slocum is still in the area but we can't confirm it. And," he added, his eyes sweeping the crowd, "you've got everyone in Hazzard out the middle of town. Not sure how smart that is."

"Not my idea," Henri-Mae said, very plainly. "Boss Hogg wanted things to go about as normal."

Brockson made a "hruh," sound in the back of his throat, and said, "Where is the butterball in white right now?"

Henri-Mae thought for a moment. "You know, I'm not rightly sure."

Brockson looked at her, and cocked his head to one side. His voice lowered conspiratorially. "You don't think he'd be stupid enough to try and contact Slocum on his own, do you?"

Henri-Mae hesitated. She hadn't breathed one word about Boss being the very reason Slocum was in Hazzard County, and yet, the look on his face plainly said he knew.

"I, uh…why would he do that?" she tried.

"Well, Ms. Blake had suspicions that she shared with me, and from what I know about Hogg, they're more than likely true." Still that hushed tone, no one behind her could hear, she hoped.

"Then why don't you just arrest Boss?" Henri-Mae asked in a low voice.

"Can't. Lack of evidence." Brockson's face twisted ironically. "Don't worry, one day he'll get his. But in the meantime, we're going to have to station someone here to confirm the rumors. If Slocum sticks around, we'll know it in a few days."

"I wonder why he's still here," Henri-Mae said.

"So do I," Brockson agreed. "You don't think it has anything to do with you, does it?"

Henri-Mae considered this thought. "Don't know why it would," she said. "I didn't have any unfinished business with either him or Kelly. And that's been so long ago…"

Brockson looked at her. She shrugged.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she sighed. "I'll be back on duty first thing in the morning. In the meantime, did you check in with Rosco? He's on shift tonight."

"Yeah, already done that," Brockson said. "He got some major phone call though, not sure how much he absorbed. Thought it would be better to just talk to you."

"Even though I'm a pain in the ass," she supplied.

"And I'm a misogynistic asshole," he agreed, still low-key. "Plus, with your history…I figured you have the most at stake here."

"To be honest, I really hope not," Henri-Mae said, repressing a shudder. Then she swept her hand behind her. "Why don't you grab a plate of barbeque before you take off?" she said. "At least take some home with you."

Brockson considered this, and then wandered off toward the grill. If there was one thing folks in Hazzard knew how to do, it was eat.

Henri-Mae turned back to the table, her head spinning. To think Slocum was around because of her…the shudder came back, even stronger. Which meant she wasn't paying attention. The last words she heard before reality snapped back into place were, "Molly, wait!"

Something warm and oozing slapped her square in the lap. She looked down to see that Molly had her small hands in the air between them, and that her discarded plate, smeared flat with barbeque sauce, now lay facedown on the grass between them. Of course, the plate hadn't gone straight to the ground. It had made a segue to the middle of her dress, as was evidenced by the very large, round stain of barbeque sauce that was rapidly seeping into the soft blue fabric.

"Oh," Molly said, horror growing in the huge bright blue eyes she had inherited from her father as she realized what had happened. Instantly expecting Henri-Mae to be enraged, her eyes well with tears, and she shrank back.

"Molly!" Shelly cried in distress, pulling herself out from behind the picnic table. She crossed the short distance, and still neither girl had moved. Henri-Mae managed to blink and look down at the mess, and felt an instant and horrible flush of embarrassment at being soiled in such a way in front of practically all of Hazzard. Which was totally out of character for her, considering the reputation she already had. Later on, she realized it was a purely natural reaction to be that mortified – the only way she got from day to day was to keep her head held high. Not so easy when your pretty dress was utterly ruined.

"I'm sorry," Molly said, her voice softer than normal. The girl was not a whiner, not even when she was in trouble, but to have done something to her beloved Aunt Henri-Mae had blown her little circuits right out. Her bottom lip started to quiver.

Henri-Mae drew a breath. She bent down, grasped Molly by the shoulders. Looking her square in those huge, glassy eyes, she said, "It was an accident, baby."

"I'm sorry," Molly said again, a broken record, not knowing what else to do.

"I know you are, and I forgive you. Don't worry." She kissed Molly's forehead and straightened, lifting up the skirt as much as modesty would allow. A sardonic look twisted her smile. "Got any club soda?" she asked Shelly.

Lloyd had already come around, observing the situation. Shelly grasped Molly's hand and brought her over to her father. "Let's go back to the boarding house," Shelly said to Henri-Mae.

"Can I come, Mommy?" Molly asked.

"No, sweetie, you stay here with Daddy and Tommy," she said, hand brushing Molly's cheek. "Come on, Henri-Mae."

Henri-Mae managed to unlock her feet and head off in the direction of the boarding house. Not that it did much good. The deep crimson against the pale blue offered no contest.

"It's not ruined," Shelly said as she plunged the garment into a practical bath of soda water in the bathroom sink. She snatched up the hand soap, which usually worked brilliantly on occasions like this, but the grease had already sunk through the fabric, and while the red was gone, the shadow of it remained, ugly like an oil slick. "I'll take it to the dry cleaner tomorrow, they should be able to get it out."

Henri-Mae came down the stairs, not sure if Shelly was talking to her, or herself. "Don't worry about it, Shell," she said. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Yeah, well…"

Henri-Mae watched the hunch of Shelly's shoulders, frowning slightly. She had known Shelly since high school, and could read her body language pretty well. "You know what you should do?" she said, fluffing out the last of her hair. "You and Lloyd should come back here, put the kids to bed, and have your own private little party."

Shelly looked at her over her shoulder, eyes wide. "What?"

"Come on, I live in this house with you. What you two need is some personal time," Henri-Mae said. "Trust me."

"Trust you," Shelly said, turning away and giving a little snort of laughter. "I guess that makes sense, considering I can't even trust myself lately."

"You and Lloyd are so immersed in buying this boarding house that you've forgotten why you want it," Henri-Mae said. "Besides, have the two of you been together for more than ten minutes, alone, this whole week, let alone this whole night?"

Shelly didn't answer.

"Besides, I know you want to. I saw how you were watching him taking care of Tom. You looked lonely."

"Yeah," Shelly said softly, lifting the dress and letting the last of the water drip back into the sink. "Yeah, maybe you're right." Then she turned around and saw what Henri-Mae was wearing. "What the—"

Henri-Mae looked down at herself. Her hip-hugger jeans with the sparkly designs along the hips had been the only clean pants she could find in her closet. And the midriff baring white T-shirt had been the only stain-free top. "It was all I had that was clean," she said. "What, does it look bad?"

Shelly shrugged a shoulder. "Not for the bawdy music they're going to stay playing any minute now," she said. "I'm sure Jed will love it."

"It's more comfortable than that dress!" Henri-Mae called as Shelly went back downstairs to take her friend's well-meant advice. Henri-Mae turned around, and Molly was standing behind her.

"Hey baby, shouldn't you be in bed?" Henri-Mae asked, kneeling down to Molly's height.

"Just wanted to say sorry…again," Molly said, coming up. "And to give you this!" She handed Henri-Mae something small and red that weighed heavily in her palm.

"What's this?"

"Daddy won it for us, but he says I have to wait until I grow up a bit more before he'll teach me to use it," Molly said. Henri-Mae examined it and realized it was a Swiss-army knife. It was rather fancy, too, containing all manner of tools, and it was rather actually huge for a Swiss-army knife. "You can have it," Molly said. "To make up for the dress."

"Oh honey, you don't have to do that," Henri-Mae said. "But I'll keep it for you until you can learn how to use it, okay?"

"Okay," Molly said. "Sorry again."

Henri-Mae took the little girl into her arms and kissed her. "Don't give it another thought," she reassured her, and took her back to bed.


	8. Lonely In The Woods

Disclaimer: Same as always. (That bad, huh) (Sorry, Star Wars joke)

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Upon stepping outside of the boarding house, Henri-Mae heard a pair of footsteps coming up the street. Her heart rate doubled for a second, until Jed's face broke clear of the shadows. She should have recognized his easy pace, but at her startled look, he shoved his hands into his pockets, embarrassed. "Sorry, I…uh…"

"No, no, I'm just jumpy," she said, coming down the stairs. Then she frowned lightly up at him. "What brings you to my door? That crowd get boring so soon?"

"No, uh…" He turned halfway back to the square, and then to her, and said, "The families started to pack up and go home, so I thought the party was over, but then the singles and the older people started passing around a big jug of moonshine, and there was a whole different kind of dancing, and I wasn't sure what to do, so I thought I'd come wait for you?"

She chuckled. "Hazzard nightlife a bit too wild for you?" she teased, folding her arms.

His eyes followed her arms, and drifted down the long, lean, naked skin of her torso. Then he dragged his eyes back to her face. "No, just didn't want to start without you."

She came down the steps to walk beside him, and they headed back. Henri-Mae noticed he had taken his hands out of his pockets, and felt the temptation to reach out and take one of those hands with the long, manly fingers into hers. But she didn't…it seemed to personal.

Upon arriving back at the dance, it became clear that Jed was telling the truth. When Shelly had returned and discreetly made the suggestion to Lloyd that they leave, the other families had taken it as a silent cue and started to pack up their kids. Wasting no time, the rowdier crowd that usually flooded the Boar's Nest on Saturday night started passing out the moonshine jars. They were well on their way into the late night party that the younger folk could drag on until well past three in the morning.

"Hey!" Sue Ann called from where they had been sitting at the picnic table, a little thinned out with Shelly's family's departure. She pushed a few jars at them, slopped to the brim with the thick, sweet alcohol. "We saved you some."

"More than some," Henri-Mae said, picking up her glass. "Did you leave any for the rest of them?"

Jed picked up his jar and sipped at the liquor. He gave a little cough, and then smiled bashfully at the others. "My first moonshine," he admitted.

"Then take it slow," Bo warned. "Or you'll hear ringing in your ears like a fire alarm all day tomorrow."

Henri-Mae, however, was no stranger to this or any other kind of drink. She swilled back at least a quarter of a glass before the band started to play again.

"Honky-Tonk!" Lula laughed as Henri-Mae's eyes lit up in recognition.

"I do believe it's the only country song I can stand," Henri-Mae replied. Knocking back almost half of what was left, she slammed her jar down and grabbed up her friend, then called, "Come on, Sue Ann! Let's see what you're made of!"

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Dancing and drinking filled up the later hours of the night. It didn't seem to matter who was with whom. Men grabbed women and women grabbed men and swung them around the square, passing partners like monkeys through branches.

And Henri-Mae got drunk. More drunk that anybody in Hazzard had ever seen her. Problem was, she was very good at being drunk, so that nobody really knew exactly how drunk she was until finally exhaustion won out and she, Sue Ann and Lula wound up around a table at about midnight, with Lula attempting to sober everyone down with water.

Sue Ann was no delicate rose – she could slam moonshine with the best of them and Henri-Mae found herself liking her more and more every second.

"So, have you treated yourself to the great kissing styles of Beauregard Duke yet?" she teased.

Sue Ann giggled. "Haven't had much time. He sure is popular with the girls."

"Hell, yeah," Henri-Mae said. "All he has to do is blink those pretty eyes, flash that baby smile, and he can part any girl's knees like water."

"Henri-Mae," Lula said, shocked, although not too shocked.

"Are you ladies talking about me?" came his voice over their head. Henri-Mae looked up and craned her neck back until she was looking at him, upside-down, nearly like how Molly had done earlier that evening.

"Why, are your pretty ears burning?" Henri-Mae teased.

"Blushin' is more like it," Bo drawled, plopping himself down between Henri-Mae and Sue Ann, snaking an arm around each girl's waist and drawing them closer together.

"Bo Duke, you've been drinkin'," Henri-Mae said, looking down at his arm around her waist with partial amusement, and part something else she wasn't recognizing at the moment.

"Sure have," he replied. "Now don't go gettin' all jealous now, there's more than enough of me to go around." He winked at Sue Ann, who didn't seem to be bothered one bit that he had both girls pressed up against him like bookends, even though he was supposed to be here with her. Then he looked to Lula. "Lula, if I had a third arm, it'd be all yours, 'cept I'm afraid Luke might beat the snot out of me for it."

Alarm penetrated the hazy cloud around Henri-Mae's brain as she saw Lula's face take on a foreign expression. "Excuse me?" Lula said, the humor fading.

"All right," Henri-Mae said, reaching up and grasping Bo's face by the chin with the arm that was between them, turning his eyes to her, "maybe we should go dance, get some of this poison out of your blood. It's making you say some really stupid things!"

"I don't think they're stupid," Sue Ann said, oblivious to Lula's change in mood. "I saw how Luke was lookin' at you all night, Lula," and she winked.

Henri-Mae managed to get a leg out from under the picnic bench, but Bo's grip on her was fierce, and she found herself looking around, wondering if anybody was seeing this scene unfold. "You've _both_ been drinking," she said, getting on her feet. The other two wound up coming up with her, Sue Ann and Bo latched together by their hands. Bo seemed to not want to let Henri-Mae go.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Bo said, his weight wobbling between her and Sue Ann. "Let's go find a nice dark place under a tree, and…"

"Do this," Sue Ann said, snagging her arms around Bo's neck and kissing him, hard. Henri-Mae looked away, as she was unable to get away – even a smacker like that hadn't dislodged Bo's hold on her. When the kiss broke, after what felt like an hour, Bo turned and looked down at Henri-Mae, who by now had managed to turn completely around in his grip, her back against his hip.

"Mmmm, you sure were right, Henri-Mae," Sue Ann said, causing Bo's eyebrow to arch. "He is the best kisser I've ever seen."

"Oh, so you were talkin' about me," Bo said slyly. "Comparin' notes now, eh? What'd you say about me, Henri-Mae? That I was best kisser in the county, or the world?"

Finally, Henri-Mae managed to get his arm off her waist. But quick as lightning, his fingers found hers and entwined like crawling ivy. The shifting in weight brought her crashing back into him again.

Her world spun around. Lula was nowhere in sight, there was nothing to steady her, to remind her that this wasn't her place, where she wanted to be. Jed wasn't close, no one but Bo with Sue on his other side…

And she was right up against those soft pink lips she had been talking about before.

She had to be dreaming. The whole world had that strange, see-saw quality, and she wasn't sure if it was the alcohol that was entirely responsible.

"Where ya goin'?" Bo asked.

"To get more moonshine," she said, reaching down and grasping his wrist, "I'm still not drunk enough to do this."

Bo laughed, softening his grip. Henri-Mae slipped her hand away, but found that she wasn't moving away from him. Not like she was supposed to…

Sue Ann was tugging Bo away, toward the woods. Several couples had already retreated to its dark corners, and there were giggles and moans erupting from here and there. Only Bo Duke could want to make out with two girls at once and not make it seem like a sluttish thing to do.

Henri-Mae looked at them, at Bo…he was a beautiful man, always had been. Blond hair curled and just brushing the collar of his shirt, which was open, exposing a little bit of his tanned, mildly hairy chest. His neck was long and mildly flushed with the moonshine, and she could remember, quite vividly, kissing that neck, whispering all manner of promises, feeling the vibration of his voice against her lips.

And she would do it, too. She would go with them, into the woods, and it wouldn't mean anything.

_It wouldn't mean anything._

It hit her then, staring at Bo, with Sue Ann's arms around her neck, that _she wasn't jealous_. Not one bit. It was all in the name of a good time, with no strings attached, just some fun, nothing serious.

She almost started to laugh with the absurdity of it, the paradox and perversity of it. But as she turned around, her gaze fell on another table.

Four people sat around it. Luke and Cooter, Jed and…Daisy. With her arm on Jed's shoulder, flirting.

It sent a pure red flush straight up her cheeks, a feeling so intense she wasn't prepared for it. It made her dizzy. She lost her balance, although she hadn't been moving, just standing there on her own two feet.

She stumbled, caught herself, gave a quick, reassuring smile toward anyone who might have cast a concerned look her way. Of course Jed was flirting with Daisy. Daisy was a beautiful girl. Smart, quick, and sharp besides. And best of all, she was a nice girl.

Daisy was a nice girl with a good heart, and Henri-Mae was not. Daisy would never run off into the woods to make out with a boy who had once broken her heart, just for fun. Daisy would never have lived with a man who killed for a living, have gotten her ass sent to jail on trumped-up charges. Daisy was probably still a damn virgin.

Hernri-Mae grasped at something to steady herself, only found the picnic bench. She lowered herself and took several breaths. She was drunk, she reminded herself. She had had at least four or five jars full of moonshine, maybe more. She was very drunk, and alcohol was a mood enhancer. If she was happy, it would make her euphoric. If she was the slightest bit sad, it would drag her down along the ground as if she were tied to the bumper of the General Lee.

Bo and Sue Ann were headed for the woods. Not at a fast rate, as both of them were just as drunk as she, and they were stumbling so much it was more of a crawl. She rested against the table a few more minutes, and then, unsure exactly what she would do when she reached them, she began to follow the couple. By the time she got to the edge of the woods, they had already disappeared inside.

This was insane. First of all, Bo would hardly be able to look at her the next day if she went through with it, and while a part of her happily danced at the thought of making him squirm, to the rest of her it was getting old. She glanced back toward the party, watching the mildly blurry figures moving in circle motions in front of the band, their version of dancing. Jed standing at the edge, people around him, and he seemed to be looking intently in the crowd for something. Daisy was dancing, that had to be it. Henri-Mae let out a disgusted snort.

She should have known better. Really, she should have. Nice guys like that…but she didn't finish the thought. There was a heavy rustling in some nearby bushes.

"My God, what are you two doing?" she said, but it came out more slurred, more like, "M'God, whuttr y't'doin?" She half wanted to walk away, but that evil bitch that lurked in her skin, sometimes not so deeply, pushed her toward the commotion. She frowned, not seeing anything…"Ur gonna be sorry if'n that's poison ivy," she giggled, and bent down—

To have a very thick, muscular and unpleasantly hairy arm seize her by the throat. The figure in the bushes stood up, and she was staring into a pair of wild eyes and a mouth like a gash, filled with jagged teeth.

"Hello, darlin'," Slocum drawled. "I was gettin' all lonely in these woods here by muhself."

Henri-Mae gasped and writhed in his grip, but she felt her feet leaving the ground. Damn, the boy was strong! She reached up, her fingers scratching uselessly at the thick flesh. And then the world was slipping past her, and Slocum had pulled her into the woods, slamming her onto the hard dirt floor and knocking the wind from her lungs. She gasped and her chest rattled, but air was slow, and she thought she might suffocate. Then, the pressure disappeared, and Slocum's hand was sliding down her front, touching her in places that were thankfully numb.

"You sure brought the long arm of the law down on my head," he hissed at her, and the world was starting to swim with blurry black dots. Tight, painful gasps racked her throat, and she arched her back with the spasms. He was smiling, that wide, horrible smile that showed all his horrible teeth. "Guess it's payback time, ain't it?"

And then her world was black.


	9. Swiss Army Knife

Disclaimer: Same old. You know, a few weeks ago, I really did try to update this story. But fanfic dot net wouldn't let me. So...now I'm guilty of neglect again, so here's a double update.

A/N: Don't know if any of my Collateral friends are out there, but keep an eye out in the Collateral section because I'm starting to cook up a new fic...it will be an extension of one of my old ones. Which one? I ain't saying. But here's a hint...it WILL be a crossover with Red Eye. Just giving a heads up. :P

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It was getting late. The first of the crowd had begun to peel away, exhausted from the evening's revelries and retiring home to bed. Luke was letting the last of his beer buzz wash away before thinking about finding Bo – whom he had seen going into the woods with the very pretty Sue Ann, dammit – when Jed came up to him.

"Have you seen Henri-Mae?" the man asked. Luke thought for a moment, trying to put together the evening. Jed was a good guy, as far as he could tell, and Luke knew a man smitten when he saw one – it was just too bad it wasn't with Daisy, as the girl was sort of crushing on him – so it came natural that he'd want to help. However…

"I think I know where she might be," Luke said, getting up from his perch. "You already checked around?"

"Yeah, I've been circling for the last hour," Jed said, and then Luke saw it. The heavy crease of the forehead, the squinting of the eyes. The man was worried and was just below his breaking point, not wanting to reach it but being drawn there inexplicably. It alarmed Luke, as it seemed out of place for a simple mislaying of the object of his affection. "No sign of her. I've asked, everybody keeps saying to ask you or Bo—" and there was a flicker of jealousy across his face – "so since I haven't seen Bo I thought I'd ask you."

"Uh…" Luke looked around, knowing it was futile. Jed had really been looking for her, and there was no way he'd missed her on an oversight. "I have a feeling I might know where she is…"

"Then let's go," Jed said.

"You might want to, uh…stay here."

Jed gave him a look. "I'm a big boy, Luke, and I've got a good idea what Henri-Mae is like. Nothing she does is going to shock me."

The tone in his voice as he said those words gave Luke pause. Like someone else was talking, someone much harder and world-wise. But Jed fell into step beside him as he headed for the woods, toward the last place he'd seen Bo.

"Look, Jed," Luke said as they got closer, anxiety rising in him and pushing out his words, "I don't want you to get the wrong idea about Henri-Mae. I mean, she's a bit wild and has a fairly large chip on her shoulder, but she's not loose or fast or any of those things—"

"That isn't what I meant," Jed said, and his tone was reassuring. "I mean I know she and Bo have history. Hell, he was most of the reason she left Hazzard. I just need to know if that history is still happening or not."

"The last thing in the world either of them would do is get involved with each other again," Luke said. He paused, turning over Jed's words. "Look, since she trusts you enough to tell you about why she left Hazzard and all of that, I'm sure if you asked her she'd be straight with you."

Jed looked at him, startled for a moment, and then looked away, grunting noncommittally. By then they had reached the edge of the wood, and there were giggles coming from a nearby clump of trees.

Luke swore under his breath and dove straight in. He found Bo and Sue Ann, and managed to separate them. It wasn't easy, since they were lip-locked with their legs entwined.

"Hey!" Luke shouted down at them, getting his hands between their touching shoulders and prying them apart. Noting that it was in fact just the two of them, he sighed in relief. "Do you know where Henri-Mae is?"

Sue Ann rolled away, onto her back, one hand under her head. She gazed over at Bo, who was trying to put words together. A mischievous smile crept across his flushed face and he said, "Well, I thought she was comin' to join us, but she never showed up!"

At Bo's words, Luke caught the heavy whiff of moonshine. The boy wasn't just drunk – he was plastered! Reaching down, Luke gave him a light slap on each cheek, not hard, but firm. "You're drunk, boy," he scolded. "Come on, we're getting you home."

"I'mmma grown man!" Bo slurred. "Can't tell me whatta…"

"I don't care how big you are, Uncle Jesse'll still tan your hide if he catches you. Get up!" He grabbed Bo's arms and tugged hard, dragging the younger man to his feet. Jed had bent down and scooped up Sue Ann under her arms and placed her gently on her feet.

"I think you need an escort back to your room, Ma'am," he said to her, tipping his head in a gentlemanly way.

"Waitaminnit," Bo said, wobbling unsteady on his feet. "What're'ya…what 'bout Henri-Mae? You askin' me where she is? Cain't ya find her?"

Luke and Jed exchanged looks,

"Did you check her room?" Sue Ann said smartly. "At the boarding house? Maybe she got tired and went home to bed."

"If you want to wait until I get this one home, I'll go over and check for you," Luke offered to Jed.

Jed shook his head. "No, I'll do it," Jed said. "And I'll walk Miss Black here—"

"Blake!" Sue Ann corrected.

"Back to her room. Miss?" He offered his arm, which she took delicately, and her steps were careful and unsteady on the way back.

Luke, having a bad feeling, shook Bo until he was clear enough to stand on his own feet without falling over. "We'll follow. I'm curious to see if she's okay myself."

That frown returned to Jed's forehead.

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After an embarrassing encounter with Lloyd and Shelly, who had obviously been up to some private business, it was determined that Henri-Mae had not, in fact, returned to her boarding house room. Sue Ann was more clear by the time they came to this fact, and seemed a mite concerned. Bo was also starting to sober, especially when he was completely aware of the fact that Henri-Mae was missing.

"We should look for her around town, just to be safe," Luke said.

"Well, Luke, she could be anywhere," Bo said. "I mean, she is a deputy and everything, maybe Rosco called her in."

"I already asked him," Jed said. "I asked him, and I even went over to the Sheriff's office and ran into Boss Hogg, and he hadn't seen her."

"Well, there's only one place left, then," Sue Ann said. "We should go find Marshal Brockson. Maybe he called her away for some reason."

"They're still in town?" Luke asked.

"They don't want to leave until they're sure that Slocum guy isn't still in the area," Sue Ann said. But at the mention of the name, Jed nearly flew out of his skin.

"We should go," he said, an urgency in his usually calm voice.

"Well, I'm sure she's fine," Bo said. "Henri-Mae grew up here, Jed, she's not—"

But Jed just shook his head and headed for the door. The other three followed, only Luke realizing that the man was inches away from a full-blown panic.

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Henri-Mae felt the heavy ache of unconsciousness start to lift from her, and the last few things she had seen went swimming before her eyes.

Slocum. That big mouth of his, made larger by that huge slash of a black beard under his chin. Smiling, gaping like the devil's cavern, swallowing her whole--

No, she'd fallen into something dark. Something that felt hard and smooth underneath her. His face floated just out of her vision, laughing at her in his great, deep voice.

"Sweet dreams, Clementine," he had crooned at her, long, crooked off-white teeth blaring from his mouth.

She had been out for a while, the way her muscles had tightened and tensed. And it was dark. Pitch black, couldn't tell the difference between her eyes open or closed. A groan erupted from her throat, and came back at her, shallow and close.

She was lying on her arm – it was curled under her, where she'd fallen on it, and it was numb, dead and useless under her. Her cheek was pressed against the floor of wherever she was, and when she tried to roll over she couldn't. Then, with an effort, she shifted her shoulder back, trying to get her weight off her wrist, and realized her back was flush up against something hard and unyielding.

She jerked in panic, and the back of her head slammed hard against something hanging low over her. It was a sharp pain, and she sucked in her breath, realizing that the air tasted stale. Her good hand, the one that could feel, came up and pushed against the surface in front of her, and it was smooth and wooden under her fingers.

A coffin.

She was in a damn coffin!

Panic seized her at first, causing her to suck in her breath. Bad idea. The oxygen had already grown stale, and only her sleeping breath had kept her from being suffocated thus far. He had put her in a coffin and...and then what? Had he buried her?

She forced herself to lay still. The irrational impulse, while completely natural, to pound on the lid above her wasn't going to accomplish anything. But a few whaps from the side of her fist would tell her if there was a pile of dirt on top of her or not.

Later on, much later on, she would be stunned by her rationality. But bottom line, Henri-Mae was a survivor, and survivors can think their way through any mess, no matter how horrible. It had always been and would always be her greatest trait.

So she pounded. With her good hand, here and there, trying to hear a hollow sound. In the close space, it was hard to tell, but when her fist managed to bring down a thin shower of dirt from between the pine slats, she knew she was underground.

Her breath was coming deeper, and it tasted ugly in the back of her throat. She didn't have much time, and she had to act fast. What did she have with her? Nothing. She'd been in a pair of jeans and a skimpy T-shirt…

She closed her eyes and forced her breathing to slow down. A memory flashed through her head – Slocum had her somewhere before this...a shack? Somewhere he was hiding out? She could hear a pounding in her head, and realizing it wasn't just the lump on the back of her head…in fact, the lump seemed much larger than it should…he had hit her before, in the woods. The amount of force it took to knock a human being unconscious was just short of killing them.

Being dragged…no, something else. Something hard in her pocket, digging into her hip. She reached around with her good hand and felt in the back cheek pocket of her jeans – yes, she had put it there! Molly's Swiss-army knife!

In the dark, she couldn't see anything, so she used her fingers to pull the extensions out, one by one. She finally came across something that might work – a screwdriver, not terribly long, but it might be enough--

She shifted her knees, wanting to cry out at the frustration of being so enclosed, so little able to maneuver. She'd seen too many movies, she was crazy to think she could get out of this coffin with this little knife…

She lay still for a moment, her brain reeling. She couldn't get her thoughts to coalesce, form into something useful. Either it was lack of oxygen to the brain or it was the sheer horror of death coming for her. A sense of unreality surrounded her, closing in as surely as the walls of her grave.

The Swiss-army knife was hot in her hand, the metal and plastic smelling strange in the enclosed space, but she didn't care. Freedom was too close now, she had to get out, she couldn't die now...

She reached out and scuffled with her hand until she found the corner of the coffin. There was no way to tell where the nails were, so she started to push the edge of the screwdriver's tip into the thin opening. The way her shoulder was wedged between her and the lid, it gave her extra leverage, so when she worked the screwdriver's tip deep enough into the crack, she turned and pushed up.

The screwdriver cracked in half right in her hand. She dropped it, and dug her fingers into the crack. Something oozed against her fingertips, and she realized she had literally hit paydirt.

With another grunt and the last bit of her strength, she pushed. She heard the creaking of the nails, felt the wood give way under her shoulder, and the dirt came in, still fresh and moist from the recent movement. She heard the nail finally pull out all the way from its nest in the wood, and a cool avalanche of dirt covered her arm.

She shifted her weight and shoved with all her might with her elbow and shoulder against the lid. It gave way, but it was heavy. She pushed harder, getting her spine into it, feeling the dirt falling all around her head--it was harder to breathe now, and she stood up, shoving the lid aside, pushing through the dirt as if it were water.

It was the hardest swim of her life. But she saw the crack of light above, felt thin currents of fresh air against her nose. Her fingers broke through the ground first, looking for all the world like a zombie rising from the grave. She reached as far as she could, fingers digging hard into the still-soft ground, and she gripped it, pulling herself out.

It didn't take as long as getting the screwdriver wedged into the coffin lid, but it felt longer and was fueled by so much more desperation. She crawled and grasped, feeling her fingernails scream in agony as they were strained past their limit, but as soon as her head broke loose and she could taste open, clean air again, her adrenaline, which had been pumping at hero-rate to begin with, soared like a plane taking off. She kicked and grunted and shrieked, and soon she was lying on the ground, staring into the rosy-pink sky of the sunrise, breathing and breathing and breathing as if her lungs just couldn't be full enough of that fresh, sweet air.

Slocum had tired to bury her alive. She'd always known he was a sick, twisted bastard, and that he put Peter McCabe to shame with his perversity, but this was...this was...

This was personal.

Her limbs shaking, she got to her feet. Dirt caught in her breath and tickled her throat and made her cough and gag, but it didn't slow her down. Her head was swimming, her legs hurt, one of them wouldn't work right underneath her, and she was limping horribly, but will made all the difference.

She started toward town, where the dawn had just begun to light the sky with a soft, cool blue glow, following her nose like a bloodhound, trailing bits of earth behind her all the way.


	10. Hysterical

Disclaimer: I've totally forgotten...which characters do I own again? Oh yeah...only the ones I named. :)

"Missing?" Sam Brockson didn't seem terribly concerned, but he did keep looking at Jed, as if he were trying to place him. Jed hadn't spoken once, it had been Bo and Luke doing all the talking, and Jed kept to himself on the other side of the room, waiting for the results.

Bo missed it. Luke started to think about what Jed had said earlier about Henri-Mae, as if something just didn't sit right. But at the moment, there were more important things.

"We've looked all over town," Bo said. "She's not at the Sheriff's office, the Boar's Nest, her room at the boarding house—"

"Well, maybe she has a life you don't know about," Brockson drawled. "A boyfriend…. girlfriend…You knocked on every door yet?"

"I put out a call on the CB and she hasn't answered," Luke said. "We said it was urgent…and the last I saw her, she was a little drunk."

"A lot drunk," Jed said softly.

"Nobody has seen her," Bo insisted. "And yes, we checked with all her friends. None of them saw her."

"So where was the last place you saw her?" Brockson asked, standing up. A new look was on his face, as if he were just starting to become interested.

"At the dance," Luke said, catching Bo's blush.

"I thought I saw her heading toward the woods," Jed said. "She never came out."

"Well, did you check around there?" Brockson was looking at Luke, now. From extensive questioning a few months ago, he was aware of Luke's military record. He was also quite aware that the Duke boys seemed to fancy themselves detectives.

The cousins exchanged glances.

"I did," Jed said. "It looked like there might have been a struggle. Broken branches, and some drag marks on the ground, scratched up dirt. That's why we came to you, Marshal."

"Is it?" Brockson's gaze was on Jed again, and he crossed the room, approaching the man.

Jed let out a very loud, frustrated sigh, unfolded his arms and stepped right up to Brockson, meeting his gaze even though the man was easily a half-head taller than him. "Yes, it is, Marshal. Because you still haven't located that Slocum guy yet, have you?"

"You think it's connected?"

"Don't you?" Jed was obviously trying _not_ to say something, which made it even more obvious. Luke half expected him to ask Brockson if they could step aside into a private room, alone, but perhaps the man knew that would have been worse. With a glance at the Duke boys, an expression that clearly said that it was not open to discussion, he said, "They knew each other in New York, didn't they?"

"And you know this because…"

Jed just looked at him. "I just know it, all right?"

"Did Henri-Mae tell you that, too?" Luke asked, that old feeling bounding back.

Jed didn't reply. "You and I are going to have a little chat soon," Brockson said to Jed. "In the meantime, I'd suggest you start looking. Get together as many of your friends as you can to help. Daylight's on its way, gentlemen. I'll get my men on it, too."

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She was getting weak.

She's been walking so long, her hips ached from the movement of the limp, and there was a stitch starting in her side. All of this, however, was barely felt compared to the blaring pain in the back of her head. It had started as a dull awareness, but now it felt like someone was driving a dagger in the crown of her skull.

She couldn't see the sun, but the sky was lighter. It was a cool morning, she could see wisps of her breath. All these small details she clung to, trying to stay focused, trying to keep walking, just putting one foot in front of the other—

When it broke down, she couldn't say. Her feet were numb, and she couldn't breathe properly. Her head hurt so bad she felt her throat closing with tears, her eyes blurring. Then she realized, as she attempted to wipe the tears away, that there were no tears, and that her vision wasn't working right.

And then she just stopped walking, and stood there, half-bent in the middle of the road, not sure where she was, not sure where she was going. All she really wanted to do was lie down, curl up and go to sleep. Yes, maybe for a minute, she'd rest and then she'd get up again…

Then she heard that awful horn. That Dixie chirping. It made her flinch, and she took another few steps, wanting to get away from it. She heard the crunching of gravel and a familiar voice, but the ground was getting closer – or were her legs shrinking? She felt something hard against her knees, another sharp pain, and her chin slumped against her chest, vision fading…

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It was an informal search – Brockson got a few of his guys in their cars driving up and down the back roads of Hazzard, but no one knew the place quite as well as the Duke's. Luke wanted Jed to come with them, but the man insisted on going his own way.

"I can cover off-roads on horseback," Jed said.

Not having slept all night made Bo a little woozy, but Luke was used to it from his military days, so he drove the General. Soon the sky was starting to get light, and with still no sign of Henri-Mae, even Brockson seemed on the verge of panic.

Then, turning down route 60, far outside of town, they saw a figure. White shirt, jeans, blond hair caked with mud. There was only one person it could be.

"What the hell?" Bo scowled as he leaned out the window. "Henri-Mae?"

"She can't hear you, we're too far away," Luke said. Bo darted back inside and reached over, slapping the horn. The sound seemed to have an effect on the staggering figure – not a positive one, either. "Bo, you idiot!" Luke snapped.

"Stop the car!" Bo cried, as she went down. Luke slammed the breaks, and Bo was already crawling out the window.

She was in the middle of the road. The middle. Not the side, but right down the middle. She was slick with mud, especially on her hair, and on her bare arms, and on the legs of her pants. She had been limping, and she didn't seem to respond to her name; Bo caught it just in time and slowed down as he approached her. She didn't turn.

"Careful, Bo," Luke said as he followed. "I called the paramedics, they'll come and get her."

"We could get her to the hospital faster than that!" Bo said, getting closer. "Henri-Mae, can you hear me?"

"'Course I can," she muttered. "You're shouting."

Someone came out of the woods, riding on a horse, tall and deep chestnut brown. It was Jed. He instantly took in the situation and stopped his horse so that Henri-Mae was half-way between him and the General. He slid off, taking in the sight of her, and the Dukes, neither one eager to approach her.

"She okay?" he called to them.

"That's what we're trying to determine," Luke said. He'd seen stuff like this before. Trauma had a way of messing with a human being, making them act strange, even deranged. Shock caused all kinds of unpleasant side-affects: fugue states, amnesia, personality distortions. He was grateful that Bo wasn't rushing at her, as it might have made it worse.

Jed, however, was a bit more gutsy. He slowly inched his way toward her, calling her name softly. After about the third try, she lifted up her chin, her eyes just barely focusing on him. "What's going on?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she muttered. "Got dirty."

"I can see that," he said. He glanced at Luke. "You call the paramedics?" he called.

"Yeah," Luke said, but Bo interrupted.

"We could get her to help faster in the General."

"No good," Jed said, his voice low and calm. "Can't shove her through that little window you guys use for a door, not in this state she's in. She might panic, freak out. Hurt herself, even you."

"Cut," she said.

All three men looked at her for a moment. Then, even more slowly, Jed came close enough to lean down and gaze into her face. "What'd you say, darlin'?"

"Cutter," she said. "Put me in the ground. Got me dirty."

Jed scowled. "Cutter did this? He buried you?"

"Yeah," she said, her breath coming in short, labored gasps. "In a little box. But I got out. I…" Her shoulder started to quake, her chest heaving. "Oh…oh God…I got…I got out…" And she dissolved then, in a mass of racking sobs that echoed off the trees in the early morning.

Gently, Jed scooted to her side, and put his hand on her shoulder. She melted against him, her fists closing on the front of his shirt as if for dear life.

The cousins looked at each other, astounded. Something was very, very wrong.

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Hazzard Hospital was not very large, barely two stories, with a staff of a half dozen nurses that alternated shifts, two doctors, and a smattering of technicians. The emergency room was small and was designed only to take two people at a time, which meant that the dozen people who wanted to get in to see if Henri-Mae was going to be all right had to take turns.

Nobody could decide who went in first.

It was Rosco and Boss who managed to elbow their way through, Boss hollering about how he was her boss and as she was one of his deputies he had first rights. Rosco, being Sheriff, came second. But the Dukes and Jed had already beaten them inside, and Jed was in the process of getting Lula Marie through the doors around the small crowd when Henri-Mae regained consciousness.

She hadn't properly fainted. When the paramedics arrived, they took her half-lucid from Jed, and determined that part of her problem came from oxygen deprivation, so they had her on a pump. The bump on the back of her head had caused her to be concussed, so being conscious was important, but difficult. The older, senior doctor of Hazzard, Doc Applebee, arrived minutes after she was brought in, and after a quick, precursory examination, abruptly ordered everyone out.

"You…you can't do that!" Hogg protested. "I demand a report of her condition, for the insurance—"

"Stuff your insurance, Boss," Bo snarled at him irritably, "you just want to be the first one to talk to her when she wakes up, in case she knows where that Slocum guy is, and you can take all the credit."

"Calm down, Bo," Luke said as he ushered his cousin toward the swinging doors.

"This young lady is in a delicate state," Applebee said, containing his temper, which no one in Hazzard had ever seen come so close to the surface. "Shock can have all kinds of terrible effects on a human being and I'm not going to let your yelling and carrying on make them worse!"

"Doctor, can I stay?" Lula asked, coming forward. "Maybe Henri-Mae needs at least one calm familiar face."

Applebee twitched his head in approval. "But that's all. The rest of you, out!"

So into the waiting room they tumbled, coming up against Shelly and her family, and Jesse and Daisy and the other Hazzard deputies with their questions.

Lula approached the bed they had moved Henri-Mae onto. The nurses were going about cleaning her up, a delicate task that would test a conscious person's modesty. Her clothes were thick with soil, the white of her shirt gone underneath the smears of mud. Her hair was a mass of it, and Lula instantly noticed the dried tear tracks on her face.

"Hey there," she said, realizing that Henri-Mae's eyes were open, and she was looking about.

"Hey," Henri-Mae replied. "Where am I?"

"The hospital," Lula Marie said. "Do you remember?"

"I remember that damn General," Henri-Mae muttered. "And Jed and one of his pretty horses…is he still here? Jed?"

"He's outside. He and the Duke boys found you, they said."

Henri-Mae's eyes widened. "No, they didn't find me. I found them. I got out."

"Hey, slow down there!" Lula said, grasping Henri-Mae's arm as she tried to sit up. "Calm down, you need some rest—"

"He tried to bury me!" Henri-Mae cried, sitting bolt upright. "That fat bastard tried to put me in the ground! I got out! I dug my way out!"

"We're going to give her a sedative," Doc Applebee said, coming over to the other side of the gurney, where one of the nurses had grasped Henri-Mae's arm in an attempt to insert an I.V. Upon realizing what they were doing, Henri-Mae struggled to free her arm.

"You're not sticking that needle into my arm," Henri-Mae snapped. "I'm not sick and I'm not hurt! I'm pissed! And if you keep me in here we'll never track down Slocum! He'll get away!"

"Nurse, hold her," Doc Applebee said. Not one, but two obeyed, one of them getting Henri-Mae's legs so she couldn't kick, and the other grasping her shoulders in a near-wrestler's hold. He pulled out a syringe and swabbed down her upper arm.

"No, don't! You're assaulting an officer of the law! Stop that! Rosco! Rosco, help!"

The needle went in. A few seconds passed as the drug got into her blood, and soon her eyes drooped and she relaxed. They laid her on the gurney, and went about their business.

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	11. Hazzard's Great Protectors

Disclaimer: Heh. Who am I kidding?

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Luke noticed that Jed slipped away from the crowd, back toward the swinging doors, watching through the old filmy windows. Daisy attempted to approach him, but he wasn't terribly receptive, although he maintained his courtesy. When Henri-Mae started shouting, Luke saw the man's fists start to clench and unclench, but was then distracted by the words that he heard.

"She's right," he said, turning to Bo. "Slocum is going to get away. We've got to go back to where we found her and trace back her trail. It may tell us where he's hiding out."

The Duke family – Luke, Bo, Daisy and Jesse – headed toward the parking lot outside, but Luke was surprised when he turned to get into the General and saw Jed coming over to them.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his brow heavily furrowed.

"We're going to try and track Henri-Mae's path, see if we can find Slocum," Luke said.

Jed shook his head. "Brockson and his men are already doing that. Besides, you don't want to go up against Slocum alone. You saw what he did to his partner."

Luke blinked. "Yeah, I saw it, but I know you didn't. You weren't there."

"I heard," Jed said.

"From who?" When Jed didn't reply, Luke couldn't help himself. "From Henri-Mae again?"

Jed just stared at him, silent.

"Henri-Mae didn't tell you any of those things about herself, did she?" Luke said. "Not that she knew Slocum, not that she left Hazzard because of Bo. You knew them already, from someone else. Who?"

Jed sighed. "I can't tell you, Luke. I wish I could, but…look, if you're worried about Henri-Mae, don't be. I don't mean her any harm."

Luke considered him for a minute. "This'll stand for now, but not forever," he said, and got into the General and drove away.

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When Henri-Mae woke up, the bright noonday sun was streaming through an open window. The crisp late fall air brought the smells of the day to her, and she blinked her eyes sleepily, wondering why her head hurt so damn much…

It came rocketing back to her, and she sighed, but with her dry throat it came out as more of a ragged moan. Then someone's cool hand was scooping under her neck, and a glass of water with a straw was at her lips. She drew the straw into her mouth and drank.

"Lula?" she said when she was done.

"They sedated you, Hen," Lula Marie said from where she sat in a chair beside the bed. "You were a bit hysterical when they brought you in."

"I think I remember…" Henri-Mae said, and then sighed gloomily. "I was right, though, Slocum got away."

"We're not sure," Lula Marie said. "Agent Brockson came by to check on you about an hour ago. He blockaded the entire area where they found you within about a four mile radius. They tried to track your trail but they're hoping when you came around you might be able to help them out. If Doc Applebee lets you out of here, that is."

"My head," Henri-Mae said, reaching up her hand. "It hurts…did Slocum hit me?"

"Damn near fractured it, according to the doc," Lula confirmed. "First time your hard-headedness was an asset."

"Shut up," Henri-Mae murmured, but Lula was smiling. "Is that it, though? Just my head?"

"And a twisted knee, that you limped on for quite a distance," Lula said. "Other than that, you're fine, except for a case of shock."

"Well, I'm not shocked anymore, just pissed," Henri-Mae grumped. She lifted up the hand that held the I.V. "Can we call a nurse? Get her to take this damn thing out of me? When can I go home?"

"Soon enough, hon…" but she was interrupted by a head poking around the corner. Rosco peeked through the doorway, hat in hand.

"Is Henri-Mae awake?" he asked, then saw her. "Oh, you're up."

"Not as much as I'd like," Henri-Mae said, struggling to sit up. "Can you put this thing on an incline or something?"

"They want you to stay flat, for your head," Lula said. "So, no."

"Well, can I have something to eat?" Henri-Mae grumbled. "And not that hospital food, I want real food."

Lula smiled. "I'll see what I can do." She stood up. "Rosco, you want to sit with her for a while?"

"Oh, sure, Miss Lula, love to," Rosco said, his tone rather demure as he skittishly came forward and too her seat. "How do you feel, Henri-Mae?"

"Not too bad," Henri-Mae said softly. "But I must be pretty bad off, that's the second time you've called me Henri-Mae instead of Henrietta."

"Oh." Rosco looked comically stunned for a moment, and then quickly said, "Do you want me to call you Henrietta?"

"No," Henri-Mae said, closing her eyes. She felt tired again…she didn't want to be tired, though. She wanted to get up out of this bed.

"Well, uh…" Rosco hesitated. "You want me to tell you a funny story, pass the time?"

She opened one eye. "You know some funny stories, Rosco?" she teased.

"Well, uh…I know one." He smirked a little. "About the time I had ten million dollars."

She perked up. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh yeah," he said, getting his wind. "It happened when you were away, you know, that two week vacation Boss gave you because of that stuff that happened on the Atlanta freeway? Remember, those F.B.I. Agents, that girl with the pretty long blond hair---?"

"While I was with Gabrielle?" Henri-Mae felt the beginnings of a smile. "You had ten million dollars? Well, what happened to it? I mean, do you still have it now?"

"Oh, no, I don't have it no more," Rosco said, looking mildly despondent. "Turned out that it wasn't supposed to be ten million, it was just supposed to be ten…but I gave those Duke boys the hardest time that ten million dollars could buy, I'll tell ya that!" And he made his trademark Rosco laugh.

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When Lula came back a while later, Henri-Mae and Rosco were chuckling up a storm.

"Oh, it hurts, it hurts to laugh!" Henri-Mae said. "You actually turned a Rolls Royce into a sheriff's car?"

"Yep," Rosco said. "And got my uniform all sparklied up. But the best, the best was eating off of Boss' fine china and silverware. He was fit to be tied, he was!"

Lula gave a little snort. "Did he get to the part about the bounty hunter he hired to get the Duke boys thrown back into jail?" she said, plopping down a rather large-sized brown paper lunch bag on the small table beside Henri-Mae's bed.

"Oh, Rosco, you didn't!" Henri-Mae admonished.

"Well, I figured you'd like that part," Rosco said.

She was still laughing. "I do, though…I can't help it. I know I'm over my grudge against the Dukes and everything, but why do I still love to see them get hassled?"

"Because they're a couple of goody-two-shoes smarty-pants," Rosco said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't laughs for them," Lula said, shooting Rosco a look.

"Oh, you always look on the bad side," Rosco said. "Besides, I went back on it in the end. Almost got my own hide tanned for it, but the Duke boys came to my rescue, just like always." He chuckled. "So it worked out, didn't it?"

"Don't know if Uncle Jesse would agree with that," Lula said.

"Oh, Lu, don't spoil it," Henri-Mae said with a sigh. "Besides, we were laughing about how Rosco managed to gamble Boss out of his whole estate. I really liked that part."

"Oh, good," Lula said. "I brought you some sandwiches, and I checked with the doctor and he said you could sit up a little if you weren't too tired."

"What kind of sandwiches?" Henri-Mae said, even as she was pushing Rosco to crank up the old bed.

"Some turkey, some ham," Lula said, sitting down in the chair Rosco had vacated. "Thanks, Rosco."

Rosco turned to see she had reoccupied her former seat. "Oh…uh, yeah. Well, I guess I need to be getting back to the office…back to work." He patted Henri-Mae lightly on the shoulder. "Next time I come visit I'll finish the story if you like," he said.

"Sounds good, Rosco. Thanks." She had the bag on her lap already and was eagerly digging through it. "What, no pickle?" she said, looking at Lula as Rosco left.

Lula had been watching Rosco go, and then she scooted forward, on the edge of her seat. "Okay, he's gone. There's something I have to tell you."

Henri-Mae frowned. "Sure I can handle it? I do have this big bump on my head—"

"No, it's not like that, but I didn't think you'd want me to tell you in front of Rosco," Lula said. "You said you worked for a woman named Kelly in New York, right? What was her last name?"

"She had a bunch of aliases," Henri-Mae said, pulling out the first sandwich. "Mustard, I hope, not mayo."

"Of course," Lula said. "But about that Kelly woman…was Rohurst one of her aliases?"

Henri-Mae paused. "Now that I think about it, that sounds like it was her real name. Why are you asking about her?"

"Because I checked on the news when I went home to make these sandwiches," Lula said, "and your ex-boss Kelly was indicted yesterday on charges of money laundering and tax evasion, and racketeering, and God-knows what else."

Henri-Mae had been about to raise her sandwich to her lips. "What are you spouting about?" she demanded. "If the District Attorney of New York actually had the balls to try and nail her with charges, he would have had to have rock-solid grounds, and the only way he could get that is if someone came forward with evidence—"

"Someone did," Lula said. "They didn't say who. Whoever it is, he or she is in protective custody. Do you have any idea who might--?"

"Not a clue," Henri-Mae said, her appetite forgotten. "I drove for Kelly, but I wasn't involved in any of her bigger business matters. I was a commodity, or better yet, more like a walking bill-board. An advertisement for how smart she was. Lula, you don't think it was _me-_--?"

"No," Lula said quickly. "No, I figured it couldn't be you, this just happened last night and you've been here all this time. But, Henri-Mae—"

"Yeah?"

"Didn't you say that Slocum used to work for Kelly?"

"Yeah," Henri-Mae said slowly, then she laughed. "Oh, Lu, it couldn't be _him_, he's—"

"No, not _him_. But maybe that's why he's in Hazzard. Maybe whoever is ratting Kelly out is here, in Hazzard, and that's why Slocum is here. Maybe Kelly sent him to find out where the rat was, and take care of it."

Henri-Mae stared at her. "That's an awful idea," she said.

"Isn't it?" Lula looked pained. "Do you think I should say something to Marshal Brockson?"

Henri-Mae considered it. "Maybe he already knows," she suggested.

"Well, if he does, no better way to find out than by telling him, seeing how he reacts."

Henri-Mae blanked off into space for a moment, and then refocused back on Lula. "You know, I'm surprised at you, acting like this. I would expect it from Shelly, but…"

Lula just looked at her, rather sheepish. "Sorry. All this crap going on around here can even put someone's imagination like mine into overdrive."

"Yeah. Well, it's a very interesting theory…I guess you could test it out. Be sure to tell me what happens. I would ask you to wait until I was out of here, but—"

"Okay, I will." Lula looked almost relieved.

"No, wait—"

"No, I'm sorry, Henri-Mae, but you're right, it's probably all my imagination."

"I didn't say—"

"I'm going to have to go, visiting hours are probably almost over. You eat, and get some more rest. Shelly will probably be by soon, you know you'll need your rest for that."

"Okay." Henri-Mae frowned slightly. It wasn't like the all-knowing Lula to lose her nerve. And especially not like her to bail out on her so unexpectedly. "Thanks for the sandwiches."

"No problem. I'll be by again real soon." And she left, leaving Henri-Mae alone with her thoughts.

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When Lula left the hospital, Luke was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Well?" he asked.

Lula shook her head. "She didn't know anything. Luke, I don't like this one bit."

"I know, it's enough to make anyone uneasy—"

"No, I mean, I don't like the idea of you guys getting all suspicions over poor Jed Davidson," Lula fumed, although she kept her voice low. "Hasn't Henri-Mae had a hard enough time without you guys making it worse?"

Luke was taken aback for a moment. "Lula, that isn't what it's about, we're trying to protect her—"

"Oh, yeah, you and Bo, Hazzard's great protectors."

"Come on, Lula," Luke pleaded, "think about it. That woman Kelly's indictment, Slocum, or Cutter, or whatever that guy's real name is, showing up in Hazzard, and Jed knowing things about Henri-Mae—"

"It's entirely possible he's telling the truth and she _did_ tell him all those things," Lula pointed out.

"It's possible--? So you didn't ask her."

"Of course I didn't, I didn't want to upset her."

"And _why_ would it upset her?" Luke asked with a smirk. "Because it would bother anybody to have things known about them that they didn't tell. And besides, Jed himself all but admitted that she hadn't."

"See? That's another point. Why admit it? You want to make it sound like he's up to something sinister, when in all probability, worst case scenario, is that he's the witness they've got against Kelly, and they're hiding him here, and he just remembers Henri-Mae from New York. Pure coincidence."

"And that doesn't make you uneasy?"

"It makes me feel like it's none of my business," Lula said. "Maybe you should get some of that feeling, too." And she walked away.


	12. Insurance

Disclaimer: Huh? I'm doing what? Playing with someone else's property? God knows I've been so slow in getting this fanfic posted, I've already finished the next one, and I'm a third of a way through the one after that. Pathetic, I know.

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She was in the dark. It was close, and warm, and at first she felt safe and secure. But then she grew cold, and realized that there was thick, clay-like soil between her fingers, between her toes, and it was too soft under her, it wasn't supporting her, she was starting to sink down…

She reached up for something to grasp hold of, but her hands came up short in front of her, something hard and rough blocking her way. She pounded against it, but it was like hitting concrete and she was sinking further and further down, and there was dirt getting in her mouth, up her nostrils, in her eyes, and she couldn't even scream, couldn't even _breathe—_

She sat bolt upright, heartbeat slamming against her ribcage. She took deep, gulping breaths, realized she was sobbing in loud, hacking coughs, nearly hyperventilating from fright.

"Easy," came a voice, and a large, warm hand covered hers, which clutched the edge of her mattress in a white-knuckled grip. She looked over her shoulder and saw Jed sitting there, a book in his lap, and the lamp on over his head.

She turned away, looked out the window. It was dusk, the sun had already set and only the smoky pink leftovers of light were in the sky. She caught her breath, and lay back again, willing her head to stop pounding.

"You were dreaming," Jed said, standing up and fluffing her pillow. "I was going to wake you up but I was afraid that'd make it worse."

"How…how long have you been here?" she said.

"Not long," Jed said. "Maybe twenty minutes or so." He gave her a smile. "I'm sorry, maybe it would have been better to have your friends Lula or Shelly here…"

"No," Henri-Mae said, rubbing her forehead. "No, actually…" Actually, it felt really nice, seeing him there. It made her feel warm, and protected. The touch of his hand, soft and yet calloused from working with his horses…she seemed to remember something about him holding her, while she cried, in the middle of the road…

"Lula brought you some sandwiches, earlier," Jed said, "and I guess you haven't eaten yet because they're still in the bag." He rustled the brown paper, and Henri-Mae had the briefest flash of her father, fixing her lunches after her mother had left, and how hard he'd tried to make her things she liked to eat… "You want to eat now?"

"Yeah," Henri-Mae said, looking around. "But didn't I have water here—?"

"I'll go get you some fresh water," Jed said, getting up and grasping the empty cup with the plastic straw sticking out of it. He winked at her as he left, and Henri-Mae sighed, and couldn't help smiling to herself.

A minute later, there was the sound of two people coming up the hallway, and Henri-Mae had to listen hard for a second to make sure her suspicion was right. It was Rosco, in tow of the Boss himself, and they were grumbling at each other.

"Boss, it's not a good idea," she heard Rosco say.

"Listen, I'm the one in charge here, I make the decisions, now you stay out of it." When he cleared the doorway, Henri-Mae was already sitting up, arms folded.

"Well, come to make sure I'm still alive?" she remarked. "Or that I'm not going to sue the county for what happened to me?"

"Don't be silly, Henri-Mae," Boss said, giving her that too-sweet smile of his, "the county isn't responsible for what happened. As soon as we catch that Slocum guy, you can sue _him_."

"Oh, sure, a hell of a lot of money I'll get out of him, too. Have they caught him yet?"

"Not yet. But that's not why I'm here."

Henri-Mae scowled, and her eyes darted to Rosco, who looked like he wished he could dissolve into the ground. "Really?" she said, and perhaps Boss should have caught the edge in her voice and backed off.

"Well, it turns out that all of this happened to you on your own time, so your workman's comp. won't be paying the insurance for the hospital," Boss said, his fat fingers fluttering through some papers he had grasped in his meaty little hand. "And that means it comes out of your personal insurance."

"Boss, Boss, don't," Rosco nattered, but it was either too soft, or Boss just didn't care.

"So that means that your insurance premium is going to go up. Hospitals aren't cheap, you know."

Henri-Mae just stared at him for a moment. Then she blinked. Jed appeared in the doorway, frowning at the small crowd that had just appeared while he was gone, just in time to see her face flush as red as a tomato.

"You mean to tell me," she said slowly, menacingly, "that you came all the way over here, to visit me in my sick bed, to talk to me about taking more money from my already miserably tiny paycheck?"

Boss looked at her, blinked, and then grinned. "I'm glad to see we understand each other."

"Oh, we understand each other, all right." She pushed the blanket off her legs and swung them onto the floor. Jed came into the room, set down her water, and attempted to get her back into the bed, but she slapped him away. "I understand, Boss Hogg, that you are completely devoid of any human compassion, and that all you care about is the almighty dollar. Well, you can kiss your almighty dollars goodbye!" Now she was in full screaming mode, the apples of her cheeks standing out brightly against the paleness of the rest of her face. "When I get out of here, so help me God, I'm going to sue you for every last dollar that you have, since that's the only language you understand! Because none of this would _ever have_ happened if you hadn't brought Slocum into Hazzard in the first place with your crazy scheme to commit _mail fraud_!"

Boss had also gone very red, his face falling and getting angrier with each word coming from Henri-Mae's foam-flecked lips. Finally, at the words, "mail fraud," he broke. "Henri-Mae!" he screamed back at her. "One more word, ONE MORE, and you're fired!"

She stepped forward, but the IV in her hand limited her movement, so she reached out and picked it up, drawing it toward her like she wanted to hit Boss with it. "You can't fire me!" she said. "I QUIT!!!"

"What the hell is going on here?" came the nurse, followed by two others, as Henri-Mae launched into the foulest line of cursing ever heard this side of the Mason-Dixie line. Jed grasped at her IV stand, and managed to get it from her, but it didn't stop her. She continued to rail and scream and rant, and after the nurse unhooked the IV line from the bag, Jed reached out and grasped her and forced her to sit on the bed.

She fought him. She would have kicked at him if she'd been at full strength, but luckily the Duke cousins and Uncle Jesse had also heard the horrible racket and had come to see what was the matter. They pushed Boss out of Henri-Mae's hospital room, and the doctor closed the door between them, banishing the entire party to the hallway.

"What in creation did you do, Boss?" Bo demanded.

Boss had the decency to look shame-faced. "Just taking care of some business, that's all—"

"Is what Henri-Mae said true?" Jesse demanded. "Were you the one who tried to get Emmers sent up for mail fraud?"

"She doesn't know what she's talking about!" Boss spluttered. "She's delusional, hopped up on drugs—"

"The only drug Henri-Mae needs right now is a sedative to keep her from ripping your head off!" Bo shouted.

"Bo, calm down," Luke admonished, although he too was seething. "You're not helping."

Bo backed down a little, but he still glared bloody murder at Boss.

"J.D.!" Jesse snapped. "You didn't answer my question!"

"Oh, come on, Uncle Jesse," Luke said, "you know he's guilty and you also know he's never going to admit it."

"Can't prove anything," Boss spluttered.

"Yeah they can," Rosco said, giving Boss a very dirty look.

"Not a word, Rosco, not a word!" Boss heaved, then turned on his heel and left, Rosco storming after him. The Dukes did not hear the heated words exchanged between them after that.

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Inside the room, Henri-Mae was firmly placed back on her bed, and the nurse threatened to restrain her if she didn't calm herself down. The doctor told the nurse than Henri-Mae was to have no more visits from either Hogg or the Sheriff, and would have kicked Jed out, too, in spite of his attempts to help, if Henri-Mae hadn't objected.

"No," she said, panting lightly. "No, it's okay." She glowered, but stopped her ranting. "Just keep out that big fat white pig of a man, and I'll be fine."

"Only if you're sure," Doctor Applebee said. "If something like that happens again, Henri-Mae, I'll have no choice but to sedate you, and sedation isn't going to help you recover any faster."

"I _said_ I'll behave," Henri-Mae insisted, closing her eyes, her voice almost a whine. She slumped back against her pillows.

"She'll be okay, Doc, I'll stay with her a bit," Jed offered.

"How much longer do I have to stay here, anyway?" Henri-Mae demanded. "I mean, it's not like I've got broken bones or anything…"

"We'll release you in the morning," Doc Applebee said. "In the meantime, I want to keep you here for observation. You went through a seriously traumatic event, Henri-Mae. It's not something you lightly walk away from."

She snorted. "And yet, I did just that," she remarked, folding her arms sulkily. "Fine, until the morning. But in the morning I want to leave."

"If you can keep yourself in check for the rest of the night, we have a deal," Doc Applebee said. "I think you can take her IV out, Nurse," he said. "I don't think she needs it."

"Thank God," Henri-Mae muttered as the nurse came over and started to untape the needle attached to her skin.

Once the doctor was gone, Jed smirked at her. "I didn't know any one person could know so many swear words," he said.

"Yeah, well, you pick stuff up over the years," she muttered. She gritted her teeth, and tried not to look at the needle. "I'm not going to pretend to be proud of it, you know. I know I have a reputation for being a bitch and being proud of it, but the truth is I'm not. Not really."

"Hm. Well, I've always had a terrible soft spot for girls with too much spirit," Jed said, and Henri-Mae felt the blush creep onto her cheeks.

"You've got more than you can handle with me," she muttered.

"I can see that. So are you serious, about quitting? No more Deputy Locke?"

She sighed, half from the stress of the situation, and half from the fact that the damn needle was finally out of the back of her hand, the hole was taped, and the nurse was heading out. "Yeah, I think I am." She scowled, looking away, reminded unpleasantly of her run-in with Boss just the other day. Or was it--- "Jed? Is it still Saturday?"

"Sure is," Jed said. "You went missing late last night, popped up really early this morning, and spent most of this day sleeping, getting your strength back. You still have a day of the weekend to go."

She ran a hand through her hair, and realized how unkempt it still was. They had done their best to wash out the dirt, but it had dried without conditioner and was now stringy and dull. Had it been only last night she'd been at the Granger dance, getting drunk and flirting with Bo, of all people? Or Friday morning since she'd exchanged words with Boss – or rather, listened to his threats? She liked her job, liked being a deputy, liked the perks…

But right now, was it worth it? And she felt the first tremors of her self-respect, rising from the ashes. "Yeah," she said aloud, more to herself than to Jed. "I meant it. I quit for real. I don't think Boss believes me, but trust me, he will."

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Lula headed down the hallway, toward Henri-Mae's room. It was morning, nine o'clock to be exact, and the sun was bright in the sky. Hazzard was quiet, most of the community at the local church. But there were voices, soft ones, coming from Henri-Mae's room.

"Thank God," Henri-Mae said when Lula came through the door. "You have to get me out of here. I mean, I know Hazzard can be a sleepy little town, but it is a graveyard in the middle of the night."

Lula frowned at her. "I thought I heard you talking to someone…"

The small lavatory that was adjacent to Henri-Mae's room was opened, and Jed was in the doorway. "G'morning, Lula Marie," he said politely.

Lula lifted an eyebrow and looked down at Henri-Mae.

"He kept me company," Henri-Mae said.

"All night?" Lula asked, her eyes going to Jed.

"No," Jed chuckled. "I got here a few hours ago. Snuck in when the staff wasn't looking."

"I am _so_ done sleeping," Henri-Mae groaned. "Damn sedatives…I think I was up until three in the morning—"

"You were still up after I left?" Jed asked.

"When did you leave?" Lula asked, starting to feel like a mother hen.

"About two, I think," Henri-Mae answered for him. "I attempted to watch television. Nothing on but really old movies—"

"Hey, old movies can be really good if you give them a chance," Jed interjected.

"Yeah, there was one on with Joan Crawford, I kind of got into it but then I did doze off at about three, and I think the nurse came in and turned off the television. Jed left me his phone number and told me to call him if I got lonely, so…" she shrugged, the softest pink of a blush touching her cheeks, "I did."

Lula looked from Jed to Henri-Mae. There was a gentle kind of shyness between them, two teenagers casting secret looks at each other when no one else was looking. Lula had already known there was something between them, that he liked her, and that she thought he was attractive, but during the night, something had upped the stakes, and now Lula didn't know what to think.

"Well, I'm here to take you home," Lula said, finding her voice. She glanced quickly at Jed. "If you still want to go."

"Oh, hell yes," Henri-Mae said, sitting straight up in bed. "Throw me some pants, I'm out of here."

Jed chuckled. "That's my cue. Anything you need me to do?"

"Provide me a little dignity by waiting in the hallway," Henri-Mae said, starting to roll down the covers. "Lula, did you bring me clothes?"

Lula handed Henri-Mae the paper bag she'd been carrying, with Henri-Mae's fresh jeans, just laundered by Daisy, and a clean T-shirt. Jed slipped into the hallway and Henri-Mae climbed out of bed to get dressed, but having been bedridden for over a day had made her a little woozy.

"You sure you're up for this?" Lula asked.

"Hey, if I can eat on my own, and shit on my own, I don't have to be in any hospital," Henri-Mae replied staunchly. "Crap, I don't really want to be at the boarding house, either…not with the fact that I don't have a job now, and Boss is sure to start hassling me."

"Well, as much as it's going to break Shelly's heart," Lula said, "I've made arrangements for you to stay with me. I got your stuff already. I figured you'd want to get away, and since I'm about the only person in Hazzard _not_ indebted to Boss, I figured my place was most likely."

Henri-Mae lit up, and then threw her arms around Lula's neck. "I love you, girl," she said.

"Yeah, I love you too." Lula bit her lip as Henri-Mae pulled the clothing out of the bag. At Henri-Mae's puzzled look, Lila asked, "What?"

"Did you happen to see the little Swiss-Army knife that Molly gave me?" Henri-Mae asked.

Lula shook her head slowly. "Didn't see it..."

There was a whistle from the doorway. Both girls turned to see Jed's hand extended, the rest of him still out of view. At the end of his fingers was the small red pocketknife, still dirty but not as much, with the broken end of the screwdriver still sticking out.

Henri-Mae took a step toward him and grabbed it. Then, she grasped his hand, pulled it closer to her, and kissed the back of it.

Lula frowned at her. "What's that for?"

"To thank him," Henri-Mae said.

"The knife, not the kiss," Lula said with a shake of her head.

"This?" Henri-Mae held it up. "This is the thing that saved my life. I used it to wedge up the coffin lid. Broke the damn thing in the process, but it's never leaving my pocket again. Daddy always said you don't find a good luck charm every day. Hang onto the ones you do."

Lula repressed the urge to whistle. The pocket knife was tiny, all right..."Well, you get dressed. Come on, you need to get home and rest."

"I'm done resting," Henri-Mae said.

"You know, I don't want to intrude," Jed said, coming back through the door a few minutes and a pair of jeans and a T-shirt later. "And even if you're not tired, Henri-Mae, you still need to rest."

"What's the word on Slocum?" Henri-Mae asked, her only reply to the admonishment a slight frown. "Have they found him yet?"

"The search parties have doubled," Lula said. "But now they're talking about getting groups of locals together. With shotguns. The people of Hazzard are getting damn tired of this nonsense and they want Slocum found more than anybody. The good part about that is that some of the more reclusive people are volunteering, and they know the less navigable parts of Hazzard better than anyone."

"Yeah," Henri-Mae muttered. "Who's recruiting these parties?"

"Boss put Enos in charge," Lula replied. "But it doesn't seem to be going too well." She paused. "You know, the story about Slocum trying to bury you alive is all over the town."

"I'm not surprised," Henri-Mae said quietly.

"But it's gotten you a lot of sympathy," Lula pointed out. "Which means people are a mite pissed at Boss for letting you quit."

Henri-Mae gazed out the window for a long moment, and then she turned to Jed and smiled. "See? What did I tell you? Worse gossip that those Hollywood magazines."

Jed chuckled. "Henri-Mae was expounding on the virtues of a small town last night," he explained at Lula's puzzled look.

"Yeah, well, this time it might work in your favor," Lula said to Henri-Mae.

"I'm not going back to Boss," Henri-Mae said firmly. "I don't care what excuses you want to make, the drugs, the trauma, whatever—"

"You may not have to," Lula said mischievously. "Boss may come crawling to you."

Henri-Mae seemed mildly amused at this idea, but it dissolved when a nurse appeared at the door, pushing an antiquated wheelchair. "I am_ not_ riding in that," she said flatly.

"Hospital regulations, Miss," the nurse said, in that no-nonsense kind voice all nurses seemed to have.

"You may as well put me in a red wagon and pull me along," Henri-Mae said, even as Jed motioned her toward the chair.

"Later, when you're feeling better," he teased, but she got into the chair with minimal fuss. Jed even pushed her down the hallway and into the small lobby, Lula behind with the paper bag filled with the things she needed from the hospital.

When they reached the doorway, they saw a familiar car pulled up on the curb outside, behind Lula's bug. Uncle Jesse and Daisy were coming out of it, holding a familiar looking picnic basket between them.

"Good morning!" Uncle Jesse said cheerfully when he met them just outside the main doors. "Heading back to the boarding house?"

"To the general store," Lula said. "Henri-Mae's going to stay with me."

"Then I suppose I have a better chance of convincing you to take this," Jesse said, extending the basket. "Fresh fried chicken, apple pie, and some other goodies to tide you over. Good food for healing."

Henri-Mae extended her arms. "I'll take it, Uncle Jesse. Thanks," she said, looking mildly embarrassed as she placed the basket on her lap. "You're too good to me. I don't deserve it."

For a moment, the Dukes just stared at Henri-Mae. They had perhaps expected some sarcasm in her voice, but there was none. It took them a second to realize she meant what she said.

"Nonsense," Uncle Jesse said. "Your father was one of my oldest friends. As far as I'm concerned, I'll always be watching out for you."

Henri-Mae didn't reply. Instead, she tried to stand up, but the basket was a bit heavy. Without missing a beat, Jed stepped up and took it for her, and grasped her hand with his other free one. He and Lula got Henri-Mae comfortable in the bug, and they made the short drive around the town square to get back to Lula's general store.


	13. Steel A Creep

A/N: Disclaimer, yadda yadda, so I finished reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and it was good, and the very next day I wrote this little six-page fanfic about it, and man did that thing get reactions. But if you're curious you'll have to go to my author's page and look it up. Don't read it if A) you're not a Harry Potter fan, or B) you are a Potter fan and haven't read Deathly Hallows yet.

The title of this chapter makes me giggle because it makes me think of those old Remington Steel episodes, where the name of every episode had "Steel" in it in some pun-ny way. Of course, this is a different Steel. I always wanted to do a fanfic involving Henri-Mae and the Ten Million Dollar Sheriff, but as seeing there really wasn't an oporutnity in the story line I couldn't. So I used mention of it in this installment. Hope it works!

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Monday morning came, and Henri-Mae didn't go to work. Lula was right, she still needed rest, so she slept when she felt like it, but she was also incredibly bored when she wasn't sleeping. With nothing to do except pace around Lula's apartment and watch the woman work on the computer half the day, she realized that she had to get out.

Not just for the sake of getting out. She had unfinished business.

It was during this strange time, however, that somehow, she and Jed came to the understanding that they were "courting," to use the old fashioned term. "Dating" didn't seem to fit, as one actually had to_ go out_ on dates for it to apply, and it seemed that whenever he was around, she didn't feel like going anywhere, just sitting with him, talking. Monday night, they snuck up to the roof of the General Store and sat looking at the stars.

"So has there been any word on Slocum yet?" she asked softly, from where they lay, stretched out comfortably, Jed's head resting on his arm, while he had insisted she bring up a pillow for hers. She wanted, very much, to be closer to him, to curl up beside him, but somehow she felt that at this stage, it would be wrong. Everything was so delicate—

"They're still searching. Brockson is barely holding off the local Hazzardites from forming a lynch mob."

"Hazzardites?" Henri-Mae echoed with amusement.

"What do they call themselves?" Jed asked.

"Generally? A bunch of ornery, country folk. You've seen our population sign? They don't know because we won't let them count us?"

Jed chuckled, "Yeah, I noticed that on my way in." He paused, and there was something heavy in the air between them.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Tomorrow, the locals are going to do their own search. They're convinced that Slocum is still in the area, because he hid out for so long before. Why exactly completely baffles them…"

"He's waiting," Henri-Mae said softly.

Jed waited for her to continue, and when she didn't, he said, "For what?"

"Don't know." She let out a long, heavy sigh. She hadn't told Jed about her whole checkered past yet, but she figured everyone suspected something, since Slocum had targeted her so specifically. "He used to work for an old boss of mine, someone I knew in New York."

"You lived in New York?"

"For a little bit. Not too long…I tried to get out of Hazzard," she said with a snigger, "but it just dragged me back in."

"It's not a bad place to be," Jed said.

"No, I guess it isn't." She sighed, wanting to tell him everything, also wanting to change the subject. "Although I will say the skies are much better here."

"I did notice that," Jed said. "I imagine in New York you can hardly see the stars."

"No, you really can't," she sighed again, her eyes tracing the faint line of the Milky Way. "When I was really little, my mother used to show me the constellations…" She paused. Why in the hell had she just started talking about her mother? She _never_ talked about her mother.

"Mom was a star lover?" Jed asked.

"Yeah, I guess she was. I knew the whole bunch of them, too, Orion, Cassiopeia, Andromeda, Pegasus… Although Orion isn't really hard, the three stars of his belt always give him away."

"What about the planets? She show you them, too?"

Henri-Mae smiled. A memory flooded her. "I saw Mercury in transit, once. You know what that is?"

Jed frowned, then gave a little shrug.

"About once ever twelve years, Mercury passes between the Earth and the Sun, and you can see it, a black speck, against the Sun, if you have the right kind of telescope. Dad bought Mom one for an anniversary present, and she set it up, and showed it to me. I just remember being amazed that you could see another planet in the daytime." And then she stopped, suddenly choked. "I think that telescope was the only thing she took with her when she left."

The mood grew quiet. "Mom left, huh? Is that why you left Hazzard, too?"

"I was too young when she left," Henri-Mae said. "But when I got older, yeah…" She gave a bitter little laugh. "Although I don't know what _her_ reason was, I know mine was because of a broken heart."

"Hm. Who broke it?"

She turned, rolling over to prop herself up on her elbow, and smiled at him. "Please…you can't tell me you haven't heard the gossip that flies around about me."

"I'd much rather hear it from you," Jed said. "You know how things get lost in translation. Besides, I never listen to gossip."

"Well, in my case, the gossip is true," she said. "Bo Duke broke my heart the night before high school graduation, and I was already on a Greyhound to New York by the time commencement started. You could say I ran away from home, except I was two weeks away from my eighteenth birthday and there wasn't much anybody could do to make me come back."

Jed turned toward her a little, gazing up into her face. "So what about now?" he asked. "Your heart still broken?"

She considered it. "I think the superglue is holding pretty well," she quipped, and then sat up, stretching her arms, shaking out the numbness from being too still too long. "Well, I'll tell you one thing, I'm tired of sitting around here."

Jed sat up, too. "What? I thought we were having a nice time."

"I don't mean now, I mean in general, in this apartment," she said with an exhalation of breath. "You said they're going to form local search parties tomorrow? That sounds like my cue. I'll be going with them."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Jed said.

She tossed him a little smirk over her shoulder. "Well, thanks for your opinion, but it doesn't change my mind none."

Jed couldn't help but grin at her. "Well, then, I'll be sure not to take my eyes off you tomorrow, if you insist on going. There's no telling if Slocum's going to try anything again." He paused. "You said you knew him in New York? How?"

"I didn't exactly run in the best circles," Henri-Mae said. "I was a runaway, you know."

"Yeah, but…" He hesitated to push, but Henri-Mae could tell he really wanted to know. "Why would he single you out like that? I mean, does he have a personal grudge or something?"

"Well, first of all, Slocum, or Cutter, as I knew him, was a sick bastard, so nothing he does surprises me, to be honest. But…" she shrugged a shoulder. "No, I can't think exactly why. That's why I mean to ask him." She raised both eyebrows. "Not very nicely, of course."

"Of course," Jed echoed. He was about to say something else, but there was a sudden commotion coming from the street below them.

"You've got a hell of a lot of nerve, showing your face in Hazzard," Luke Duke was ranting. The subject of his rant, a rough-looking man dressed head to toe in black, including the black leather jacket that fell to his hips, seemed not to care – in fact, he seemed even amused by the display.

"Don't be tiresome," he said, his voice gruff. "What, you worried I'm here after you again? There's no money in it, so don't worry…although it would be pure fun to see if your military skills are any match for mine."

"How the hell did you get out of jail, anyway?" Bo barked, who was at Luke's shoulder. Normally, he was the one flying off the hook, but he was still half in shock at the man's sudden reappearance in Hazzard.

"It's called a good lawyer," the man chuckled, mocking them. "Something I'm sure you corn-fed country boys know about as much as reading and writing. Now if you'll excuse me—"

"No way, Steel," Luke growled. "The second you set foot in this town you brought a world of trouble down on your head. Rosco maybe ain't our biggest fan, but he ain't gonna look the other way when we call to tell him you're here."

"You boys are making one heck of a ruckus," Henri-Mae said, coming out the side door of the General Store, which led to the steps to Lula's apartment. Jed was close behind, and when he saw the man dressed in black, he turned very pale.

"Henri-Mae, you should still be resting," Bo said, almost off-handed.

"Lot of good it does when you can't think past the noise coming out of your mouths," Henri-Mae retorted. She took a look at the older man. "Do I know you?"

"Hope you don't," Luke barked, even as the older man turned on Henri-Mae, looking wolfishly interested. "This here is Jason Steel, bounty hunter extraordinaire. I take it you're here for that Slocum guy?"

"Since you boobs can't seem to catch him," Steel said, straightening his shoulders, eyeing Henri-Mae up and down. "And _you_ would be—?"

"Nobody _you're_ going to know any better," Henri-Mae replied smartly, folding her arms. "So put your tongue back in your mouth."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Huh. Sure you want that, little lady?"

Henri-Mae's smile narrowed, along with her eyes. Anyone who knew her knew that this was a very, very bad sign. The little flare of her nostrils was the worst of all. "No, on second thought, I'd rather just cut your tongue out. It'd make a nice trophy over my fireplace."

Steel laughed out loud, brash and hard. "Spirit! I love 'em with spirit!"

"Do you also love 'em with two black eyes and a broken nose?" she asked, her fist starting to rise. It was then that Jed stepped up, catching her hand in his own. Jason Steel's eyes flicked up, and there was a moment between them. Something that all the others felt, although they didn't understand.

"You two know each other?" Luke asked tightly.

"Only by reputation," Steel replied. "But I ain't here for you, Saint boy." He looked back to Henri-Mae. "Well, when you're ready for some decent company, I'll be waitin' in my room for ya at the boarding house. G'night, little lady. Gentlemen." He tipped his head and sauntered on down the street, brushing shoulders with Luke as he went.

Henri-Mae watched him go, and her skin was crawling. "I met jerks like that, a dime a dozen in New York," she said. "You'd think they wouldn't bother me anymore. I guess slime clings where it will."

"You know Jason Steel?" Luke said, stepping closer, locking eyes with Jed.

"Like he said, by reputation," Jed said, looking uncomfortable.

Henri-Mae looked up at Jed, wondering if she should shut Luke up, wondering if she wanted him to go on.

"I know about Steel's reputation," Luke said. "But what about yours?"

"Mine?" Jed laughed. "What makes you think—?"

"He called you Saint boy," Bo said, his voice strained. "What did he mean by that?"

Jed looked down to Henri-Mae. Then he shrugged. "I, uh…"

"You know," Henri-Mae said, a bit too loudly, "I'm really getting tired. I think I'm going to go to bed. G'night, Jed," she said, turning and getting on tip-toe to kiss him on the cheek. "G'night, boys," she said over her shoulder, and headed back up the steps to the apartment.

For a moment, Jed and the Duke cousins looked at each other. Then, without a word, Jed turned and headed down the street. Luke wondered if he should pursue it, but figured that perhaps Steel warranted more watching.

For a little place, Hazzard just had too much going on this week, he thought.

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It was seven in the morning, the sun already up, but having done little to warm the cooling autumn air as it headed farther into winter. The pack of Hazzard folk had started to collect outside the Boar's Nest, with Rosco and Enos and Cletus overseeing things. Boss was curiously absent, which bugged Luke to no end. But he didn't have much time to worry, as when Jed pulled up, mounted on one of his finer mares with a few others in tow, he was off his horse and over by the Dukes so that Luke got a good look at the man's worried face.

"Is Henri-Mae here?" he asked.

Bo shook his head, giving a little sarcastic smirk. "You just can't seem to keep track of that girl, Jed—"

"I went by the General Store, as she kept insisting she wanted to join the search party," Jed said, ignoring Bo. "She wasn't there. Lula said she didn't hear her leave." Jed shook his head. "You don't think she did something stupid and went to go look for Slocum by herself, do you?"

Luke and Bo exchanged glances. "I just hope Slocum didn't single her out again," Luke muttered.

"Maybe we oughta ask that Jason Steel," Bo said, his voice sharp, "after how he was ogling Henri-Mae last night."

"Excuse me," Rosco said, irritated. "If you don't want to listen to what I have to say, maybe you don't need to be in this party."

The three turned and saw the Sheriff standing close by, arms crossed. Clearly he'd been giving instructions, as the others started to break off into groups.

Suddenly, Bo turned to them. "Yeah, I think that's about right," he said. "We're sorry to have bothered you, Rosco." And he spun and headed for Jed's horses.

"Oh, uh…" Rosco said, watching them go, puzzled.

"Bo?" Luke called as his younger cousin reached one of the horses. "What's going on?"

"If Jed's right, and Henri-Mae went after Slocum herself," he said, turning to them, "what would be the first thing she'd do?"

"She'd go armed," Jed said, "Wouldn't she?"

Luke gave him a hard glance, but there wasn't time. "I don't suppose we can borrow your horses," he said.

"Don't see the harm. But where would Henri-Mae go to get a weapon?"

"She still has the keys to the Sheriff's office," Luke said.

"No, I checked the Sheriff's office first," Jed said. "I saw Boss there, he was cleaning out the gun locker, handing things off to the deputies on their way down here."

"Then that leaves one other place," Bo said.

"Where's that?" Jed asked.

"Henri-Mae's father was a bear-trapper," Bo said, mounting up, Jed following suit. "But he always had the best guns, taught Henri-Mae to shoot. He said you could never trust a trap to kill a bear, just slow it down a little."

"Henri-Mae's house is empty," Luke pointed out. "All that stuff was moved to a storage locker."

Jed kicked his mount into a gallop. "Then that's where we start."


	14. Abandoned Places

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

A/N: Triple threat -- three chapters, to finish this tale. You'll have to let me know what you think of how it ends.

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Everything hurt, but Henri-Mae shook it off. It was too much lying around in bed that had slowed her down, she told herself. Not the leftovers of shock, not the twist in her knee or the bump on her head that still made her skull ache when she moved it wrong. Of course, the fact that she hadn't ridden her bike in a few days wasn't helping, either. Her father's best rifle, the one with the sniper scope, didn't fit as snugly across her pack as she'd hoped, and it kept bumping her leg. Her sore one, she noted with irritation.

Somehow, this wasn't going as smoothly as she'd hoped.

Sneaking out before Lula was up had gone well enough, and she had checked the Sheriff's office first, but Boss was there and she couldn't risk running into him. Second stop had been the storage lockers just outside of town, but now…well, it just didn't seem like she was going in the right direction.

The memories of Saturday morning were fuzzy, distorted. Besides, the Marshals had no doubt tracked her trail, and if they had come up empty-handed, what chance did she have? No, Slocum wasn't hiding somewhere where he could be easily found, that was for certain. So where was there in Hazzard that would be hard enough for someone to find you? The only answer she could come up with was the swamp, but if he had been that stupid, the swamp folk would have trussed him up and turned him in by now, if they hadn't just shot him outright---those folks _hated_ trespassers.

No, Slocum wasn't that stupid. So where did that leave?

She wished she had caught up with Brockson, at least, and asked him if he'd started checking people's homes yet. But Slocum was such a mean bastard, there was little doubt that he could hold a family hostage with ease for several days, giving nothing away.

Still…keeping a family hostage meant he couldn't come and go as he pleased. No, Slocum was alone, of that she was sure. But where…?

Something was in the road ahead of her. Three somethings…men on horses? She recognized Jed in the middle…and he was straddled by none other than the Duke cousins. Swearing under her breath, she pulled to a stop in front of them. Pulling off her helmet, she glared up at them. "Aren't you supposed to be with Rosco's search parties?" she asked.

Jed was off his mount and coming toward her. "You can't do this, Henri-Mae."

"Do what?" she asked innocently. "I'm not doing any---"

"Don't treat me like I'm stupid," Jed cut her off. "You can't go up against Slocum alone."

"I'm not afraid of Slocum," she shot back. "Just because he's got some grudge against me for not sleeping with him—"

Jed shook his head. "That's not it. I don't think he's got a grudge against you at all. I think he's after someone else, and he's using you to get to him."

She frowned. "Well, that's quite a conclusion you're jumping to." She felt the beginnings of a sarcastic smile as she saw the Dukes approach. "Don't tell me he's after _them_, because then that would make all this really, really boring—"

"No," Luke said, and he was practically glaring at Jed. "Not us, Henri-Mae. He's after you, isn't he, Jed?"

Henri-Mae rolled her eyes. "Really, Luke, I'd expect something that stupid from Bo, but you?"

"Hey!" Bo cried.

"No," Jed said, looking down at his feet. "He's right, Henri-Mae. I think Slocum's real target is me."

Her eyes widened. "But…but why—?"

"I can't explain right now," Jed said, a touch softer. He seemed absolutely miserable at the confession, deflated, even defeated. "Let's just say you're not the only former employer of Kelly's to take up residence in Hazzard."

"You?" She stared at him, shocked. "You worked for Kelly? Wha…" She remembered Lula's words. "You worked for her, but now you're testifying against her. You're the reason she's being indicted. And Slocum's here to put you down, isn't he?"

Jed looked back at her, all the sparkle that was usually in his hazel-blue eyes completely gone. "I'll tell you anything you want to know later, Henri-Mae," he said. "But right now, we have to find him. Now, is there anywhere in Hazzard—"

"I've been turning it over and over in my head," Henri-Mae said, putting a bit of distance between them. "I can't figure it out."

"Maybe he's holed up in someone's house," Bo said, "with hostages." He shot Henri-Mae a glare, but she didn't notice.

"No, that would constrict his movement," Henri-Mae said. "He'd have to be free to come and go as he pleased."

"He could have tied them all up," Luke said. "Or worse, what he tried to do to you—"

"No, a missing family in this town would attract attention," Jed said, his voice flat. "Slocum hasn't even left a hint of a trail."

"Have they done house to house searches yet?" Henri-Mae asked.

"I asked Brockson," Jed said. "They did a preliminary, nothing in depth—"

"You know, we could have gotten all this information up front if we'd stayed with the others," Luke said, shooting Henri-Mae a look.

A thought occurred to her. "Did they check my father's old house yet?"

"They checked all abandoned places first," Bo said.

"It's not abandoned," Henri-Mae pointed out. "Boss has it boarded up until he can figure out what he wants to do with it…and it's close to your property, Jed. If Slocum's here for you," she let out a little sigh, "he'd want to be somewhere he could watch you easily."

"We can go check it out," Jed said, heading back to his horse. "I don't suppose I can convince you to go back to Lula's?"

It took the Dukes a second to realize he was addressing Henri-Mae. "Nope," she said with a half-grin, and headed back for her bike.

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They got separated again. It was nigh impossible for the three horses to keep up with Henri-Mae's top of the line motorcycle, of which she took excellent care, which meant she got there first.

She hesitated on the front step. The clomping of horse hooves wasn't too far behind her, and she had her rifle in hand, safety off.

No, it wasn't right. The house was empty. There was no way that Slocum would be upstairs, not where anyone who was passing by might risk seeing him. He would be hidden, completely concealed…

She stepped off the step, quietly. She had already done too much to announce her arrival. The boys were coming around the corner, and Jed was already off his horse, the Dukes fast on his heels.

"Is he there?" Jed said, his voice a hoarse whisper as he reached her.

She shook her head. "Did I ever mention my daddy was a bear trapper?"

"Bo mentioned it," Jed said slowly.

"Then maybe he mentioned that it's kind of like a family business. His father taught him, and great-granddaddy before them. It was my great-grandfather who built this house, and when he did, he made a very large cellar underneath it."

"Storm cellar?" Jed guessed.

"Nope. Kind of like a slaughter house. That's where he'd skin the bears, so he could drag the hide out without going through the house. Bear skin rugs, it was a family craft. Dad died before I learned it." A flicker across her face. "Mom never could stand the smell of the cellar. She said it was like raw meat and blood."

"Just the kind of place Slocum would love," Jed said.

"All right," Luke said, taking charge, "we'll form two groups. Henri-Mae and Jed, Bo and I. One us flushes him out, the other side catches him."

Henri-Mae cocked her weapon. "I'll volunteer for that mission. I want a piece of him as soon as I can get it."

"Then we'll go around back," Luke said.

"Luke, you sure that's a good idea?" Bo said.

Henri-Mae glared at him. "Which part?" she snapped. "The standing around here wasting time, or you being jealous?"

Bo recoiled. "Jealous? Maybe you need to go back to the hospital and get your head examined again," he snapped.

"Bo, come on! There's no time!" Luke insisted, and they headed around the other side of the house.

Henri-Mae shouldered her rifle, and motioned for Jed to follow her. "He'll come out the main doors," she said, going around the corner. "And they're right back—"

She didn't get to finish her sentence. There was a crack, and she was on the ground, the gun flopping out of her hand and going into the dirt several feet away. She landed face-down, blood pouring from her nose, where Slocum had socked her dead-on.

"Well, if it ain't the little Saint boy who ran away from home," Slocum sneered at Jed. "You ready to come back? Well, you gotta take your medicine first."

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For a second, she wasn't sure what happened. The impact of Slocum's fist was so hard, it was almost like being electrocuted. A memory passed through her mind as she hit the dirt, her consciousness slipping out of her grasp and going where it would, of her being very small, and playing too close to an electric socket, and the shock of electricity through her body, knocking her back.

And then she blinked, and realized there was something close and heavy in her face – she was lying on it, and her heart pounded once, hard, sending a jolt of adrenaline through her. Except this time when she lifted her face, there was only the smear of blood and dirt, not the dark closeness of a coffin.

She could hear the grunts and moans of a struggle. She pushed against the ground, trying to get up, but her head wouldn't cooperate. Something was wrong with her eyes – like a chunk had been taken out of her vision. She resisted the urge to panic, even when she saw that Slocum was backing a very angry Jed up against the cellar entrance.

She managed to flip over. The sky was obstructed by the trees, but she could see the sun as it started its climb. It made her vision worse as small, multi-colored circles filled the sky, and little translucent worms crawled across her eyes.

And that was when the shock wore off and the pain kicked in.

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	15. Just A Girl

Luke felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. "Shhh!" he hushed Bo, whose steps were always louder than they should have been. And that was when he heard someone grunting, long and low and hard.

"What's that?" Bo hissed.

Luke didn't answer. They were on the other side of the house, and it took the turning of two corners before he saw that Slocum had grabbed hold of Jed's rifle, and had twisted it between them, so that Slocum was tossing Jed around. Jed was fighting back, though, keeping his footing, pushing against the gun in a rather vain attempt to get the barrel pointed back at Slocum, rather than at Henri-Mae, who was prone on the ground not far away.

Luke saw her sniper rifle lying a few feet from her, and darted quickly toward her. Thoughts of probation were distant, especially when Slocum reached for the trigger of Jed's rifle and pulled it, causing a bullet to hit the ground not five feet from Henri-Mae's foot. Luke scooped up the rifle, but before he could bring it to bear, Slocum gave one final wrench, knowing Jed had used the last of his strength to keep Slocum's bullet from hitting Henri-Mae, and tossed Jed right toward Luke, slamming the two together and sending them sprawling.

Bo sprinted toward Slocum, who had his back to him. Bo was light and quick, had always been compared to the more compact Luke, so he easily reached Slocum before he could turn around. He got his arm around Slocum's neck and pressed back hard, trying to cut off the man's air. Problem was, Slocum attempted to bring the rifle butt back and slam Bo in the gut, so Bo had to dodge quickly. He wound up half-climbing onto Slocum's back, attempting to use his weight to bring the man down, but Slocum was built like a brick outhouse. Bo was off the ground and lost his leverage, which gave Slocum the opportunity to throw himself backwards as hard as he could, and sandwich Bo between his broad back and the wall of the house.

The wind went out of Bo as Slocum made contact, and he lost his grip, sliding to the ground. Then Slocum spun around and cocked the rifle, aiming it right at Jed and Luke, who were only now getting to their feet. Henri-Mae's sniper rifle laid an arm's length away—

But Henri-Mae was nowhere to be seen.

Slocum noticed this, let out an irate growl, and reached down, grasping Bo by the front of his yellow shirt. He half picked him up and tossed him toward Luke and Jed. "Now," he growled, "the three of you are going to march down into the cellar, nice and quiet. Looks like the previous owner had three or four really big meat freezers – big enough for a guy to fit into. It should hold you for a while, until I can get out of town – or until you run out of air. Whichever first."

"There's three of us, Slocum," Luke pointed out. "And one of you. Even with that gun, you really don't think—"

"There's two of him," came a gruff voice behind them, and all three turned to see Jason Steel coming out from behind one of the larger maple trees behind the house, handgun in hand, loaded and cocked.

"'Bout damn time you showed up, Steel," Slocum said.

"I thought you said you were here to collect on Slocum's bounty," Luke said.

Steel smiled unpleasantly. "You Duke boys are so gullible, you believe everything you're told."

"I don't," Jed said, turning to Steel with a strange look on his face.

"Don't try it, Saint boy," Steel said, taking a mild step back. "You heard the man. March your asses down into that cellar right now—hey!"

It was too late. Slocum turned, seeing the alarm on Steel's face, and swung the rifle around only to have the barrel seized by Henri-Mae, who brought her leg up with tremendous force and managed to connect her heel to Slocum's nose, causing a large spray of blood to splatter onto the grass.

"Now we're even," she growled, as he lost his grip on the rifle.

Luke seized the moment that Steel was distracted and jumped on him. Jed had hold of the arm with the gun and was twisting it to the ground. It went off, making a small crater in the soft earth, and with a twist he managed to wrench Steel's wrist to make him drop it. Bo, for his part, lunged for Henri-Mae's sniper rifle, and brought it to bear, but there was no way he could target either Steel or Slocum, not with the others in the way.

Slocum was as bold as ever. A temporary trip to the dirt didn't slow him down, as he was back on his feet in a flash and yanked the rifle up so that the barrel pointed straight up between them. Then, he grabbed for the trigger and forced Henri-Mae's finger down so that it fired, and then fired again, and a third time, until the shells popped out, empty. Realizing the rifle was now useless, Henri-Mae let go, and brought her fists forward, pounding on the pulp of Slocum's nose, attempting to find his weakness.

Henri-Mae had spirit and skill, but it wasn't enough. Even training with Gabrielle, learning how to kick her leg that high, wasn't enough to slow Slocum down. Slocum caught one flying fist, and then the other, and brought her in a tight spin, then let her go so that she slammed into the wall of the house. She bounced, and Slocum roundhouse kicked her right in the gut, and she crumpled into a ball on the ground, with not even enough air to moan in pain.

Jed and Luke had Steel on the ground, but the second Slocum saw them turn their attention to him, he reached down and picked Henri-Mae up by the scruff of her collar, hauling her between them like a shield. "Hey, dirt boys!" he bellowed. "Wanna see if I can break her in half?"

In spite of themselves, both men turned their heads. The distraction was just enough for Steel to catch Jed off guard and knock him off him. Luke struggled to maintain the hold, but Steel's name wasn't just a coincidence. He flipped Luke over and back, just far enough away for him to reach for his fallen handgun. Cocking it, he aimed it straight into the air and fired.

They froze. Henri-Mae in Slocum's grip on one side, Steel with his handgun on the other, and Bo, like at the apex of a triangle, with the sniper rifle still in his arms. Luke and Jed were in the middle, and right in firing range of Steel's handgun.

"Don't think you're quick enough with that, boy," Steel said.

"Even if he was," Slocum said, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground, "he ain't gonna risk hurting his precious cousin. Or even his little ex-girlfriend here. Are ya, rube?"

Bo swallowed. He couldn't fire, because if he aimed at Slocum he might hurt Henri-Mae, but if he aimed at Steel, the man might fire off a shot before falling, and either Luke or Jed would get injured. Still, he didn't dare drop it – it was the only leverage he had.

Both Slocum and Steel were looking at him, waiting to see what he would do. Jed moved a little toward Steel, and the man pulled back the hammer, making the sharp click of the cocking sound echo in the emptiness around them. He would shoot first and look later, and probably not miss.

Then Henri-Mae picked up her head, and stared at Bo. He noticed that her feet were on the ground now, and not dangling. She looked like hell, but worse than that, she looked _mad_ as hell. Slocum had her by her upper arms, but one of her lower arms hung just a little loose, and she was attempting to get it into her back pocket without alerting him.

"Stall," she mouthed.

"Come on, boy, put it down," Steel urged. "Besides, ain't you violatin' your probation? I came here the first time trying to get your ass thrown in jail…looks like I might succeed this time."

Bo shook his head. "I'm not going down into any cellar, and you're not taking my friends."

"Oh, come on, don't be stupid," Steel said. "Two against one, and you ain't got it in you to pull that trigger."

"Don't need to," Bo said. "Why don't you fight me, man to man? I wanted a piece of you last time and I didn't get it. What's the matter, Steel, don't think you can take on a good old country boy?"

Steel laughed nastily. "You really are stupid, and apparently you think it's contagious. I ain't givin' up my upper hand, boy. Maybe that works on your dumb country villains, but not on me."

"Aw, come on, Steel," Slocum taunted. "Might be good for a laugh. Wouldn't mind watching you give this little country boy a thrashing. Probably'll be really funneeeeeee!"

His shriek, high and unmanly, was immediately explained by the look of satisfaction on Henri-Mae's face. She had gotten her hand into her shirt and produced something small and red, which apparently had a very sharp end, which she had dug deep into Slocum's thigh. Then, with a wicked flicker of her blue eyes, she twisted her wrist, causing the scream to come from Slocum's lips to sound exactly like agony. He lost his grip on her in his attempt to get the knife out, and she brought her elbow up. This time it didn't hit him in the nose, but smashed him in his eye socket, and he screamed, lurching backward. She still had her fist around her knife, which she then yanked from him skin, producing an ugly squirt of blood, then turned around and kicked him as hard as she could – not up, but smashing her heel down into his groin, so that he nearly was driven to his knees.

"Cheap shot, bitch!" he managed in strangled tones, but was back on his feet quickly, considering the damage. His eye was bleeding, the blood vessels broken and swelled to bursting, not to mention the pouring wound in his leg. She didn't give him a moment – she advanced, pounding his bleeding nose and eye with her fists, kicking at the hole in his leg, and then, finally, driving her elbow straight into his chest, smashing his breath out of him for the vital moment she needed to kick his legs out from under him and get him on the ground. She rolled him over and straddled his back, then pulled some plastic strips from her jean pocket and slipped one loop over his wrists, the other around his ankles, and a third to connect them together, so that he was completely unable to use his hands and his feet.

Then she stood up and turned around to see how the others had faired.

When Henri-Mae attacked Slocum, Steel had jerked his gun in their direction, giving Jed the ten seconds he needed to get over to Bo and take the sniper rifle out of his hands. He cocked and aimed, no hesitation in his eyes, and instantly recognizing that Jed was more than willing to shoot him, Steel turned all his attention on Jed, and started to back away.

"Not gonna happen, Steel," Jed said. Luke advanced on the other side, and Steel swung his handgun toward him, then back again to Jed, not knowing which opponent was more dangerous. And then, just when the terrible decision had to be made, he felt something cold press into the back of his head.

"'Bout time you showed up, Marshal," Jed said, lowering the rifle.

"Yeah, well, we have this thing called procedure." And then the sound of loud, wailing sirens rent the quiet morning air.

Henri-Mae blinked in surprise. "How did you know we were here?" she asked, wiping blood from her cheek.

"Didn't," Brockson replied shortly. "Mr. Davidson called me with a tip, said that Steel may be working with Slocum, rather than looking for him, so I put a man on him." Brockson gave a little grin. "That man being myself, of course."

"So did you enjoy the show?" Henri-Mae asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Brockson nodded in approval. "You're certainly spirited, Henri-Mae. I'm beginning to see why Peter McCabe didn't really have a chance."

Henri-Mae looked down at Slocum. Then, she got her hands under his side, and with a mighty heave she turned him over onto his back. With his wrists bound to his ankles behind him, this was not the most comfortable position, and it made his soft underside particularly vulnerable, and pulled his arms down painfully.

She straddled him, her knees on his chest, and Slocum let out a grunt. "Ah, come on for it, bitch. Probably been a long time since you had a good lay--eurgh!"

She had pressed back her heel and gotten her toe right against his throbbing groin. "So was it all worth it, Cutter? Getting your ass handed to you by a girl?"

His eyes widened and he grinned horridly, showing all his ugly teeth. "Burn in hell, bitch," he rasped ghoulishly. "That little knife may have saved you twice, but it won't save you a third time--ough!"

She had closed one hand around his neck. Brockson was busy cuffing Steel, and couldn't do much more than bark orders at Henri-Mae to stop. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting some answers," she replied, shaking her head, her honey-brown hair matted into half-formed dreadlocks. "I want to know what all of this was about. Not some stupid mail fraud scheme, that was cover. You're working for Kelly, now you tell me why!" She did not notice Jed, Luke and Bo draw a little nearer, forming a half-ring, but whether to watch or to stop her, none of them were quite sure.

"Henri-Mae," Brockson said, his commanding voice a bit softer, but no less imposing, "since you're not a law officer anymore, why don't you leave the interrigation to us?"

"No," Jed said, not pointing the rifle but not letting it drop harmlessly to his side, either. "I'd love to hear what he has to say."

"So what was it, Cutter?" Henri-Mae seethed, her other hand idly wandering in his shirt pocket and producing his cigarettes and lighter. "I know you're after somebody. Couldn't be me, there's no way that Kelly's still interested in me, I haven't worked for her in over five years."

"World don't revolve around you," Cutter said, eyeing her as she slid one cigarette between her teeth and lit it with his lighter. She inhaled deeply, causing a quarter inch of ash to appear instantly. She pulled the cigarette from her teeth and blew the smoke away from him, but she tapped the ash right into his eye socket. With the open, bleeding wound, it wasn't pleasant. He glared over at Jed as he attempted to shake it out. "We're for him."

"_We're_?" Henri-Mae said after a blink. "Who's we?"

"Shut up, Slocum!" Steel barked, firmly handcuffed to one of the old metal posts in the yard, care of Brockson.

"You really are pathetic, Henri-Mae," Cutter went on.

She shrugged a shoulder. "Tell me something I don't know. But right now I ain't the one on the ground like a beaten dog. So you're here for..." she shrugged, but the look on her eyes suggested she knew damn well who he meant. "What do ya want with him?"

He turned his head a little, looking menacing. "What do you think, darlin'?"

She nodded. Then, balling her fist, she pounding it straight across Slocum's face, and everyone could hear the aduible crack of the cartilage of his nose breaking. He hacked into the ground as the blood started to flow, spitting and cursing at her.

"Why?" she asked when the coughing fit subsided a little.

"Ask him!" Slocum bellowed up at her.

She shook her head. "Nope, sorry. If Kelly had wanted him dead, you'd have already done the deed. She doesn't want to kill him, does she?" Henri-Mae rested her elbow on her knee, then her chin on her palm, cigarette smouldering from between her fingers. She looked like she had all the time in the world, in spite of the blood still coming from her right nostril, and the sticky sheet of red that coated her right cheek and the right side of her neck. "So...you gonna give, or do I have to take?"

Slocum glared up at her. Henri-Mae brought the cigarette out so that she held it between two fingers. Just at that moment, Brockson joined the circle and reached to take it from her, but she quickly put out her other hand, holding one finger in the air. Brockson, a bit stunned for her to be giving him orders, paused for a moment, and looked down at Slocum. Then it seemed like he was going to wait and see. At this, realizing there was no protection forthcoming from the lawman, Cutter cracked a little. "Whatever you do to me, ain't gonna be half as bad as what she can do," he said.

Henri-Mae grinned an evil little grin. "You so sure?" she whispered.

Slocum shook his head. "I was just watching him," he said.

"Yeah, and you had to commit a rather high-profile case of mail fraud and murder your partner and get a manhunt going throughout all of Hazzard to do it," Brockson said, and the cousins and Jed jumped a little at his chiming in. Henri-Mae, however, didn't miss a beat.

Slocum turned his scornful eyes to Brockson. Henri-Mae drew them back to her quickly. "Seems you messed up pretty bad, Slocum," she sing-songed. "Don't think Kelly's gonna be too happy with you."

Slocum shrugged, as much as he could while being pinned down. "A guy's gotta have fun," he grunted.

Brockson scowled. "Oh, yeah, you're going to have worlds of fun. In the penitentiary." He reached out and grasped Slocum's shoulder, and nudged Henri-Mae off him. She stood up, glaring at Slocum all the while, as Brockson vainly tried to get him to his feet.

"Man, I can't walk, way this bitch has me hog-tied!" Slocum whined.

"No insult meant to the hog, of course," Jed quipped.

"Where the hell did you get those things from?" Brockson asked, fingers brushing the sturdy plastic.

"Swiped them from the store before I left this morning," Henri-Mae said, finishing the cigarette. "By the way, I didn't get a chance to pay for them. Can you loan me five bucks?"

888888888888888


	16. You Said It First

Henri-Mae, Jed, Bo and Luke were not allowed to leave the "crime scene," as it was called, just yet. They were all parked on a low bench just behind the house, and a Hazzard paramedic (or rather, _the_ Hazzard paramedic) was giving them the once over. Once she had determined that Henri-Mae was the only one showing any injury, she had parked herself in front of the younger woman with an open first-aid kid and was gently removing the quickly drying blood from Henri-Mae's skin. She had a piece of cotton stuffed up her nose to prevent any more bleeding, and the medic had quickly determined that her nose was not broken -- luckier than Slocum, who was rapidly getting two black eyes.

"Oh, enough!" Henri-Mae said, when her patience could stretch no further. She grabbed for the gauze cloth and wiped up the rest quickly. "There, is that it? Did I get it all?"

The medic, whose name was Megan, smirked at her. "Yeah," she said.

"And can I take this stupid cotton-ball out of my nose?" Henri-Mae asked. "It's been jammed up here for nearly twenty minutes!"

"I think it's a good look for you," Luke teased.

Bo chuckled and smiled down at her. "Maybe you need to enter into the _Hazzard's Strongest Person _contest this year."

"Person?" Luke said. "I thought it was _Hazzard's Strongest Man_?"

"Had to change it, to let women in," Bo said with a roll of his eyes. "They said it was sexist."

"Look," Henri-Mae said as the woman's hands went back to her midsection, where she had been prodding gently earlier. "When are we going to be able to go back to town? Where's Brockson?"

"I don't know, Miss," Megan replied, and went on probing until Henri-Mae let out a warbly cry and slapped her hand away. "Bruised rib," she declared, starting to unwind her ace bandage. "You're going to need to come to the hospital for X-rays."

"No!" Henri-Mae cried. "No more hospitals!" She stood up and cried, "Brockson!" but the exertion caused her to wince and sink back to her seat, Jed grasping her firmly as she came down.

Brockson came over. "You causing more trouble, Henri-Mae?"

"When are you going to be done with us?" Luke asked for her.

Brockson eyed them. "We need to get all your statements. Plus, I need--"

"Oh, bother," Henri-Mae said, standing up. She pressed one hand behind her against the wall of the house. "This is my bloody property, I'll--"

"It ain't yours no more, Henri-Mae," Bo reminded her. "You sold it to--"

"Me!" shrieked Hogg

"Speak of the devil," Bo muttered.

"What in tarnation is going on around here?" Boss demanded, seeing the scene laid out before him. One of the Marshal's armored vans sat on the property, having been driven up onto the grass, and that three of his biggest pains were neatly seated in a row, with a new citizen he hadn't taken much of a liking to since he'd arrived at the end of the bench. "You arresting them, Marshal? Well, you can have them. I've never seen such disgraceful--"

"Oh, on the contrary," Brockson said, bemused and arms folded. "These four are heroes. They helped me apprehend a dangerous criminal."

"Criminal? What?" Boss asked, even as Rosco and Sue Ann Blake approached behind. "Who?"

"John Cutter, alias Slocum."

Boss jumped as if the devil's name had been spoken. "Slocum! Where?"

"Well, we have him in custody, but these four tracked him to this property. Property owned by you. Isn't that suspicious, Mr. Hogg? That a criminal should have access to your property?"

"I, uh, don't know what you're talking about! He could have just broken in."

"Well, I'll have to investigate that further. Anyway, I should probably inform you that there's a reward connected to Slocum's apprehension. Split four ways, it's still a good chunk of change--"

"Oh, no," Luke said quickly. "It wasn't the four of us."

"No sir," Bo chimed in.

"Henri-Mae did all the figuring," Jed said. "The reward should go to her."

Brockson clicked his tongue. "Well, isn't that fortuitous? Too bad for you, Hogg, that you let your former deputy quit. If she had been acting under your supervision at the time, it would be the city of Hazzard getting the reward."

"Reward!" Boss bellowed. Then he looked to Henri-Mae, who was trying not to laugh. "Henri-Mae, you've got your job back!"

"I quit, remember?" Hernri-Mae said dryly.

"Well, I refuse to accept your resignation!" Boss floundered.

"Uh-uh, Boss, you aren't getting off that easy," Henri-Mae said. "First of all, if I do come back, I want full medical coverage, both in and outside the line of duty."

Boss considered for a minute. "Done," he said.

"And I want a raise," she said.

"How much?"

"Twenty percent."

Hogg looked to Brockson. Brockson nodded, scrunching his mouth as if they were conspiring together. "Done!"

"Good. Because I think I have a cracked rib. I'm going to have to go to the hospital for X-rays. Hope you're all paid up!" She slapped Jed on the shoulder. "Come on, we're taking a short walk."

Jed raised his eyebrows in question, but obeyed.

"We still need you here, Henri-Mae," Brockson said.

"I'm just going to the other side of the house," Henri-Mae said. "Just to get some damn privacy."

"All right," Brockson said, reluctant. "But no farther!"

Henri-Mae started a slow walk toward the other side of the house, Jed beside her. The last thing they heard before rounding the corner was Boss asking, "So how much is this reward for, anyway?"

88888888888888888888888888

"I worked for Kelly for a while," he said as they strolled very slowly along the edge of the front yard fence, warming up in the early morning sun. "I...I laundered money." He laughed, a bit sheepishly. "It's really just a matter of juggling, you know. I was pretty good at it. It sounds either sinister and cunning, or rather overdramatic and stupid, but I did it, for almost ten years, for her and for a bunch of others. In the end, I was just working for her. Kelly was the jealous type. She didn't exactly scare my other clients away, but rather monopolized my time and paid me so much money that I didn't need anyone else but her. We were involved, but nothing serious -- I mean, we,uh...well, slept together, but there wasn't anything... I broke it off...she seemed all right with that, and didn't raise a fuss." He glanced at her, blushing a little. Mostly as he talked, he didn't look at her, but rather into the distance. Now his eyes were hesitant, embarrassed. "I was interested in you -- I'd seen you race dozens of times, and I asked her if I could meet you, but either she'd find a way to change the subject, or she'd point out that you were invovled with Peter McCabe, and nobody wanted to mess with Pete. So I let it go, after a time, and especially after you quit working for her.

"A few years passed, and I met someone. Her name was Monica...we didn't get much of a chance to get to know each other. I knew I liked her, but it seemed that we had just become involved when she vanished. I didn't know what to make of it, so I started dating again, a girl name Caroline. I remember I really liked Caroline...I think she reminded me a little of you. She lasted a little longer, but then poof, she up and vanished, too, and then I knew something was really wrong. To make a long and complicated story rather short, I found out that Kelly was responsible."

"How?" Henri-Mae ventured in barely more than a whisper.

"Monica, she'd paid off," Jed said, his voice slightly bitter. "Caroline, though, had told Kelly to go to hell..." A smile tugged at his mouth. "So Kelly sent her there first. I heard on the news that her body washed up on the riverbank, but it seemed that nobody cared. I went to Kelly and demanded to know the truth, but Kelly didn't seem intersted in giving it. She dismissed me, even, saying I was being silly and paranoid. So I told her that I quit, I wasn't going to work for her anymore. We had a huge fight, she said some terrible things, I said some more terrible things...and I tried to leave. I closed out everything and prepared to leave New York, but she had somehow frozen my accounts, and done other things, too, threatening me, saying that if I left she'd turn me in as money launderer. So I did the only thing I could think to do...I went to the District Attorney and told him that I was interested in making a deal, testifying against Kelly in exchange for my own slate being wiped clean. So they put me in protective custody, and I asked if it was possible to put me in Hazzard -- I remembered Kelly telling me that was where you were from. I don't think I planned to get involved with you, but when I saw you, working for the sheriff's department, no less, well...I just had to get to know you better."

He stopped, turned and looked at her. He shrugged. "So there it is. No big noble secret, no brave cause...just me, trying to get out from under the thumb of one crazy woman. My name isn't even Jed Davidson, it's Nathaniel St. Matthews, but I changed it to Nate Matthews because I just didn't feel right having a Saint in my name. That's why Cutter and Steel both called me Saint-boy..." He shrugged again, uncomfortable. His next words were a little louder, and rushed. "And I shouldn't have come here, it was silly, and now I've put you all in danger. Kelly knew I was interested in you from all that time back. I didn't think she'd remember, but..."

"Yeah, I know Kelly, a little," Henri-Mae said softly.

"So what I'm really trying to say is that I'm sorry," Nathaniel St. Matthews said. "Now that my cover's blown anyway, they'll probably move me in a few days. I shouldn't have gotten involved with you, shouldn't have dragged you all into this. It wasn't fair to you..." He turned, walked away from her a few yards, put his hands on the fence. He let out a long, heavy sigh. "I'm not a good person, Henri-Mae. I mean, I made excuses for myself, all my life, that I was a white-collar criminal, that I didn't hurt anyone, that I wasn't responsible for the blood that came on the money I cleaned, just that I washed it away. And if Kelly hadn't gone all Glenn Close on me, I'd probably still be doing it, nary the wiser." He looked at her, over his shoulder. "But I'll be out of your life, soon. Just, please, know how sorry I am. I saw you that afternoon, and I just...I don't know." He looked away, out toward the woods.

"Maybe I don't want you out of my life," she said softly, drawing his gaze back to her.

"I'm not a good man," he said, shaking his head. "I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of."

Suddenly, she laughed, tossing her hair back over her shoulders so that the mid-morning breeze caught and fluttered it. "Please, who do you think you're talking to? Have you heard some of the gossip in town about me?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "I figured it was just jealousy."

She shook her head. "No, Nate." It felt good saying his real name, so she said it again. "Nate, you all think I left Hazzard because of Bo Duke, but I've realized that isn't why I left at all. I left because of my pride." She came up beside him, resting her arms on the fence next to him. "He was my high-school sweetheart, as much as I ever had one, and he talked about marrying me, but..." she shook her head, letting her hair droop. "We took ourselves so seriously. When he freaked out, as he probably had every right to, staring down a commitment to one girl for the rest of his lady-killing days, I caught him with another girl. And yeah, it was wrong of him, don't think I'm saying it's not. But I didn't _have_ to leave Hazzard. I _chose_ to, not because of a broken heart, but because of broken pride.

"My mother left us when I was young, and I did nothing but make life hell for my father since. He wanted me to have a good education but I got kicked out of every school, and he lost thousands of dollars because of me. Finally, when I started public school in Hazzard, I was a terror, a bully, a bitch of the worst kind." She winked up at him. "You'd never think of it, but Lula Marie and Shelly weren't far behind me. They just grew up out of their normal teenage rebellion. I didn't. So I left Hazzard on the eve of my high school graduation, and wound up in New York for three years. Then when you said I left Kelly...well, I was in prison, actually."

"I heard rumors," Nate said softly. "But I didn't want to say..."

She nodded her head. "Say away. It's true. And after I got out, pride wouldn't let me go home to my father, even though I know he wanted me home, so badly. But Saul Townsend--" she didn't catch Nate's little flinch at her casual mention of the name, "--pulled some strings and I went to Las Vegas for a few years. And then I came home, when my father died." She looked at him, her eyes bitter. "Not to be with him at the end, no...when I got home, it was too late. He had already passed. I left my father in my selfishness to die alone, and then when I came home I took my anger out on Hazzard...and especially on poor Bo." She looked down, her cheeks crimson now. "Since you've been so honest with me, I'll be honest with you. When I came home, I tricked Bo into sleeping with me, and then attempted to wreck his reputation by claiming he took advantage of me -- crying rape, you might say. I wanted to humiliate him...but it was all because I couldn't deal with the truth I now know."

When she didn't go on, Nate said, ever so softly, "What truth is that?"

She drew a breath. "Maybe someday I'll tell you. But the bottom line, Nate, it's not you that doesn't deserve me. It's _me_ that doesn't deserve _you_. I'm a selfish, bad-tempered wildcat, and that's an insult to the wildcat. So you remember that, when you go, that you touched a part of me I didn't think would ever feel anything again." She paused, then gave a little snort. "Man, is that corny."

He chuckled, shook his head. "I didn't think so, but I'm biased." Then, a heavy silence before he said, "I don't know what to do."

"Yes you do," she said. "Your cover is blown, you probably need to leave Hazzard."

Nate shook his head. "If Kelly wanted me dead, she would have had Cutter do it first thing, you said that yourself. Instead he spied on me. And we weren't exactly coy about things. He's probably already told her about us."

She arched an eyebrow at "us." "Well," she said, "if you think _I'm_ going to leave Hazzard because of her, you're mistaken. I'm not afraid of Kelly, and if she comes near me I'll give her a bigger beat-down than the one I gave Cutter." Then she stepped closer to Nate. "And if she thinks for a second she can come between us, as you put it, well, she's wrong."

"Hell yes she's wrong," Nate said, those hazel-blue eyes of his sparking, but then darkened. "I don't want to put you in danger, Henri-Mae, but if you're saying what I think you are--"

"And I am," she replied, "although technically, you said it first."

"Maybe I did," he said with a half-smile, showing teeth.

"Well, I'll say this, then," Henri-Mae said. "As much as I want you to leave, and be safe, I want you to stay here, with me. I'm not afraid of her." She hesitated...the feelings were suddenly so strong. She knew all along how she'd felt, but now it was so plain, so bald in front of her. And looking at him, she knew he felt the same way. "I don't...I don't want to lose you," she said, the feelings transparent in her voice. "And we Hazzard folk are pretty good at protecting our own."

"Our own?" he teased. "Have I been adopted?"

She just smiled at him.

He reached out, his hands gently grasping her by the shoulders, pulling her closer. "Is this when I get to kiss you?"

She tossed back her head a little, and gave him a mischevious smirk. "Rushing things a bit, aren't we?"

"Doesn't feel like it to me," he said, his breath warm against her cheek. "Feels like I've been waiting forever to do this."

"Well, if you've been waiting _that _long." And he tilted his head forward, and she drew herself up against him, and their lips settled against each other, as perfectly as their bodies had when they were dancing.

END


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